


all the songs i sing (i wrote for you)

by prettyboyrollins



Series: all the songs 'verse [2]
Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Cameraman Ryan, M/M, Musician Shane, Slow Burn, gratuitous x-files references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-02-08 09:37:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 72,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21473887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettyboyrollins/pseuds/prettyboyrollins
Summary: Ryan's job is driving him up a wall, so he finds a local dive bar to take his mind off how much it sucks.He expects to find decent beer. What hedoesn'texpect to find is good company, and a band that just might change his life.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Series: all the songs 'verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569382
Comments: 200
Kudos: 259





	1. week of june 11th

**Author's Note:**

> traditional disclaimer that i know this is a work of fiction, i have the utmost respect for the individuals i'm fictionalizing in this story, and i'm doing my best to keep this as far away from all parties involved as i can.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this fic comes with a soundtrack, so [here's the first chapter's.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/58QQNzHCK4Si3YY6mLx0el?si=Zgg0hsW0Rh6rKrlhrv1Znw) the first song is the song playing in the bar before the band, the three middle songs are what the band is playing, and the last two songs are what's playing during the final part of the scene.
> 
> this is my first foray into longform fic writing since 2011, so please please please let me know what you think!
> 
> endless thanks to [kye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaya4114/pseuds/Kaya4114) and [jess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy) for the beta.

It had been a long, _ long _ day on set, and Ryan had never been happier to be inside, sitting down, out of the sun and the heat and away from his pain-in-the-ass director who kept telling him he wasn’t set up at the proper angle. Sure, he’d only had a few minor jobs since he graduated from film school, but he was competent as hell and his reel showed that. It was only mildly infuriating that the dude he had to work for thought he was a bumbling idiot who’d never pointed a camera at a person before.

The bartender – a woman with long, long locs and a sweet pair of glasses – placed his beer in front of him, smiling. “You gonna open up a tab?” she asked, raising one of her perfect eyebrows. “You kinda look like you’re gonna need one.”

Ryan laughed, shaking his head as he dug out his wallet. “Shit, that obvious?” He handed over his card and nodded. “Yeah. Figure I’d better. I’m gonna be here awhile anyway.”

“Alright. But I’m gonna cut you off if you start gettin’ sloppy.”

“Please do.”

Even though the place could definitely be described as a dive, Ryan found himself feeling pretty at home. There was faint ‘90s music playing underneath the relatively quiet chatter of the patrons around him. It reminded him of his favorite bars around his college, and all the long nights spent in them after classes but before the weekend of homework. He could almost feel the tension melt from his shoulders as he settled in, sipping at his beer, looking around and smiling for the first time since his 5 AM call.

It wasn’t until he started working on his second beer that someone cheered and drew his attention over towards what had been an empty stage – well, as empty as a stage could be with a drum kit and some amps on it. The point was that there was no band when Ryan arrived, and he certainly hadn’t expected one to show up. But there was, now, and he was amazed that that many men could fit on that tiny-ass stage without being cramped or falling off.

It was like every other band in every other dive bar he’d been in since he was twenty-one – mostly white, lots of beards and scruff, and at least one member who was ridiculously tall and skinny and weirdly proportioned. He was sure if it was winter, at least one of them would be wearing a knit sweater and a beanie. If he wasn’t so comfortable, he’d probably get up and go find another place, but whatever. He’d give these guys a chance, at least.

The song playing on the radio – or on the bar’s playlist, whichever it was – faded away, and then there was the soft, gentle strumming of a guitar. It sounded just like the cliche indie rock every white guy seemed to love – or at least it did until the drummer shouted off a four-count, and the sound really hit.

Ryan nearly fell off his stool with a soft “oh shit!” and the bartender laughed at him. He couldn’t blame her.

The singer’s voice was… weird, in an appealing way, much like the guy himself. He was at least seventy percent leg and his hair was going pretty much everywhere. He was wearing a truly questionable Hawaiian shirt, but somehow, he made it look good. Ryan’s eyes stayed glued to him, which either spoke volumes about his stage presence or how attractive Ryan found him. He pretended it wasn’t that second one.

In spite of his thoughts before they even started playing, he was tapping his foot against the base of his stool, nodding along with the rhythm. They were talented. He hated admitting it, but they were pretty good for a generic band in a generic dive bar on a Friday night. As the song wound down, Ryan found himself putting his drink down to clap, even though the larger crowd at the bar seemed unimpressed.

The lead singer stepped back from the mic to clear his throat and say something to the drummer. It was only then that Ryan took in the other members of the band, and they all seemed pretty pleased with the lackluster reception they’d just received. Ryan could appreciate that.

"Anyway, we're The Skeptics," he said, speaking voice all kinds of soft and alluring – Ryan shouldn’t have been surprised at how good it sounded, considering his singing voice. "And we're gonna be playing a couple more songs for you tonight, if you don't mind."

There was scattered, unenthusiastic applause. Ryan kept his eyes focused on the man as he checked the tuning of his guitar before strumming and nodding at the drummer again; the man behind the kit beamed and started an intense drumroll that led into their next song.

Ryan didn’t know his name yet, but he wished he did. The lead singer of The Skeptics was also a _ damn _ good guitarist, and Ryan was a little jealous. His own guitar was sitting, ignored, in his apartment back in Los Angeles, dusty from almost a year of neglect. It just hadn’t clicked quite yet; it was like his hands weren’t quite cut out to do chord changes. Not like this guy’s hands. Piano hands, his grandmother would have called them. They were the kind of hands Ryan had seen on every music teacher and every wannabe indie rocker kid on the quad at school. His fingers were long and delicate and he _ definitely _ hadn’t drunk enough to be noticing some dude’s _ fingers. _

He took another long drink from the bottle in front of him and kept watching.

This song was a little more aggressive – a little more gritty around the edges. The singer's voice suited it. Ryan watched, entranced, and he heard the bartender chuckle again.

“Looks like someone’s a fan.”

“They’re pretty good. I just didn’t expect that.”

She placed a glass of water down in front of Ryan and leaned over a bit. “Yeah, I know. Neither did I. Y’know, most of ‘em are generic white guys, but… somethin’ about ‘em’s different. I think it’s ‘cause Shane actually mixes it up when he writes songs.”

“Shane?” Ryan looked over at her. “Which one’s he?”

“The singer.” She stepped aside for a moment to get rid of an empty glass, wiping the counter down after she did. “He makes up characters and stories and tells them with the music. He writes about the most random shit, but that makes it interesting. It’s not the same old whiny ‘I hate this town’ fuckery.”

He nodded a few times, watching as Shane and his band finished off the song with a smile and a flourish.

“And they have fun with it,” the bartender – he really needed to ask her name – continued. Ryan turned his focus back to her as the band started their next song. “I’ve been workin’ here for like a year now, and they make every weekend tolerable. You chose a good time to come in, man. The set list’s good tonight.”

Even as she was pulled away by other customers, she kept coming back to talk to Ryan, and he managed to learn a little about the Innertown Pub, which was apparently what the place was called.

“You didn’t even look at the name?” she’d asked him, laughing a little.

“Listen, all I saw was a beer sign and I was in. I’ve had a fucking _ day.” _

She just laughed – loud and full this time – and gave him another beer. He was going to tip her so, _ so _ well.

They ended up talking through almost all of the band’s set, and Ryan was grateful – he didn’t want to keep creepily staring at Shane and his friends, not before he had the chance to tell them their music was good and that’s why he was being a weirdo.

“Alright, this is gonna be our last song,” Shane said, pushing his shaggy hair back from his forehead as he surveyed the crowd - it’d gotten bigger since they’d started playing, and a few older women cheered and pointed at him. He pointed back with a big smile. “We’ve been the Skeptics, have a great night, Chicago.”

The song had a driving beat, a catchy chorus, and a few of the people at the high top tables started dancing. If Ryan hadn’t been an anxious kind of person, especially in a new and unfamiliar environment like this, he’d be out there with them. Instead, he just nodded along, slapping his thigh with his free hand. A few of the wait staff were even jamming along as they moved between tables with trays full of drinks. It was the most alive the bar had seemed since Ryan sat down, and it was _ good. _

The song ended and the band got a healthy round of applause, much warmer than their first one with cheers scattered throughout, and Ryan whistled from his seat. He smiled up at the stage and he could’ve sworn Shane looked right at him with a big grin and a wink. 

It probably wasn’t meant for him, and that was a comforting thought – Ryan didn’t feel up to being charming or cute or flirty. _ And _ that was also operating on a lot of assumptions about Shane that felt wrong to make.

He finished off his beer in an attempt to quiet his brain down.

He caught the bartender’s attention, but before she could make her way over, Ryan was blocked from view by a giant man wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

Shane.

“Joyce!” Shane said, sounding thrilled, his smile audible even though Ryan couldn’t see his face. “Would you be so kind as to get me a beer?”

Ryan shifted in his seat as Joyce – that was the bartender’s name, and Ryan committed it to memory for the next time he came here – shifted past Shane. “I can grab you a beer after I take care of this guy, who you totally just cut in front of.”

Shane turned, looked down, and blinked. “Oh, shit, sorry, man. I didn’t see you there. Yeah, I, uh. I’ll wait.”

Ryan shrugged. “It’s no big deal, you totally earned that beer.” He nodded towards the stage as he pulled his wallet out of his pocket again. “Good set. Way better than the last band I saw in a dive bar.”

Shane laughed a little and rubbed at his neck as he looked down; Ryan handed Joyce his debit card and smiled at Shane. He seemed a little less big like this – not physically. The man was tall as hell, even to Ryan, who was average height. But the way he held himself on that stage with a guitar made him ooze confidence. That was gone here, and Shane seemed like a normal guy Ryan could see himself getting along with. “Thanks. That’s a… that’s a weird compliment, but I’ll take it.”

“A weird compliment’s still a compliment, though,” Joyce pointed out, and as Ryan signed the receipt, he nodded. She grabbed a bottle from under the counter and popped the top off, handing it to Shane. “And I know he means it – he was into the set. He was pretty good company, too.”

“Oh, really?” One of Shane’s eyebrows arched, and Ryan hoped to god the dim bar lights hid his blush.

“Like I said. You’re good. I enjoyed it, I’ll probably come back while I’m in town, maybe catch you guys again.”

Shane’s smile was almost blinding. “I hope you do, man.” He was opening his mouth to say something else when one of his bandmates – the guy who played the keys – yelled his name, and he looked over. “Shit, I gotta go. But I hope I’ll see you again…” He trailed off, looking at Ryan expectantly.

“Ryan. I’m Ryan.”

“Well, I hope I’ll see you again, Ryan. Thanks, Joyce!” And with a tip of his beer bottle towards them both, he was gone.

Joyce smiled at Ryan as he gave her a twenty for her tip. “Oh you are _ definitely _ welcome back anytime, Ryan.”

“I’m gonna take you up on that.”

As Ryan left the bar, he couldn’t even remember why his day had been so bad in the first place.


	2. week of june 18th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome back y'all, here's [this chapter's soundtrack,](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0shWqTdJAWCFLW0dT1FVon?si=IYy-jXDSQTCSqmoCZiQNMg) with songs 3-5 being the songs the skeptics actually perform!
> 
> gonna aim for updates on fridays from here on out, so here's this week's chapter!

It had been a long, draining week of overnight shoots on location, and Friday night found Ryan heading back to the Innertown Pub for the first time since his first visit. He’d dragged along Jen, a local woman who’d been hired to do some audio work on the movie – she’d become one of his closest friends at work, which wasn’t surprising when you considered their senses of humor aligned almost perfectly.

“This is the first time in a long time I’ve gone to a bar that’s for straight people,” she said with a grin as she followed him in the door. “It’s gonna be weird to not be, like, whining about all of the beautiful girls I’m too shy to talk to.”

“I mean, there might be one or two here you can moon over,” Ryan shot back with a smile, heading right up to the bar and sitting down. Joyce beamed at him and waved while she helped another patron, and Jen hopped up on the stool next to Ryan.  _ Man, _ she was tiny. He forgot – her personality took up all the extra room left over by her small stature, and she seemed almost larger than life.

Jen took one look at Joyce and sighed. “You coulda  _ told _ me there was a gorgeous bartender.”

Ryan laughed as Joyce came over, his beer of choice already in her hand. “Yeah, Ryan, why didn’t you tell your friend about me?”

He groaned as Jen laughed at him. “Jen, this is Joyce. Joyce, this is Jen. I already know you’re both gonna team up against me and make my life hell, so just remind me to never introduce you to my little brother.”

That got them both cackling, and he couldn’t help but laugh along.

Joyce got Jen a drink, and as they started chatting – the bar was still pretty slow for a Friday night – Ryan was hit with a wave of genuine happiness. It’d been a while since he’d felt this at home in someplace that wasn’t his parents’ house or his old roommate Byron’s apartment. He’d been apprehensive about shooting on location for two months when he’d read the job description; he figured he’d feel like a fish out of water everywhere but on set, and he wouldn’t be able to sleep well or relax until he was back in LA. Instead, it had flipped: he felt good and confident and at peace everywhere but on set, where his director continued to be a dick.

Life was weird like that, he supposed.

By the time he’d gotten his second beer and Jen was still nursing her first drink, he’d settled into an easy conversation with her and Joyce. “It’s  _ way _ more humid here than it is back home,” he was telling them. “Seriously. Our summers get hot, but this is brutal – you’re both  _ way _ stronger than I am.”

Jen laughed. “If this is a campaign to get me to move out to LA, it  _ might _ be working.”

“Please do. I’ll help you find a job out there, I can get you a cool roommate, I’ll show you all the best taco places – you can’t get Mexican food like  _ that _ up here.”

“Shit, now you’re talking. And you’ve gotta have, like, good sushi? Good Korean food? I mean, not that I’d move halfway across the country just for food, but y’know… it makes it a little more tempting.” Jen’s eyes widened as Ryan closed his eyes, sighed, and nodded. “That good?”

_ “That _ good. I fuckin’ miss it.” He looked down at the mouth of his bottle of beer, pensive for a moment. Yeah, being here was good, but his mom’s bi-weekly family dinners, the dogs, his brother, his dad’s tacos and angry phone calls on game days...

“No getting melancholy at my bar, Ryan!”

Ryan looked up, feeling like he’d been scolded by his RA back in college for a second. “Sorry, Joyce.”

Jen snickered next to him, and as he looked over at her to say something snarky, he noticed the keyboard guy for the Skeptics setting up. “Oh my god, hey,” he said, pointing them out so Jen would turn around and look. “That band I told you about.”

“Oh, the not-shitty white boy indie band?”

“I  _ told _ you they have a name.”

“Listen, I prefer the very specific description you gave me. It invokes a whole image. You’re a storyteller, Bergara.” Jen looked back over as the drummer appeared and settled in behind the kit, and she bit her lip. “Yeah, that’s pretty much exactly what I expected them to look like.”

“Oh my god.”

Ryan tried his best not to stare as the rest of the band made their way to the stage, with Shane pulling up the rear in what was quite possibly the  _ ugliest _ polo shirt he’d ever seen. He looked like a middle-aged tourist dad in south Florida, scruffy and having the time of his life, and Ryan hated himself for finding it even  _ slightly _ attractive. 

“Wait – you weren’t kidding, Ry, that dude really is like… entirely leg.” Jen’s jaw was not-so-subtly on the floor, and Ryan hissed at her until she turned away from the stage. “I think his legs are as long as me. How the  _ fuck.” _

“I told you! Every white boy indie band needs at least one member who looks like one of those car lot inflatable tube men things.”

Joyce laughed in spite of herself from behind the bar, even as she was pouring a drink and handing it to another guy, and Ryan grinned. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong.” She held up her hands in surrender as the first few chords of the first song of the night were strummed.

And then Ryan’s eyes were glued to the stage.

He tried, this time, to pay a little more attention to the other men in the band. The other guitarist was wearing a Batman shirt under a plaid button up – he didn’t smile a lot while he played, not even when he came in with the harmonies on the pre-chorus, but he seemed relaxed. At ease. He struck Ryan as the type of guy that would  _ seem _ totally comfortable in any situation, even if he wasn’t at all.

If his read on him was right, he was exactly the kind of guy Ryan wished he could be.

The keyboardist was standing off behind him to the left, and he was skinny and tall and blond and generic – the kind of face Ryan wouldn’t remember if he’d seen him in any other situation. He was wearing, oddly enough, a Sacramento Kings t-shirt, which made Ryan smile. He made a mental note to wear a Lakers shirt the next time he came here on a night they were playing. Sure, it was a little immature, but he definitely enjoyed reminding Kings fans of the beautiful 2002 playoff series. That guy probably thought the refs rigged the game, and he’d love to do a deep dive into that particular argument with him sometime. Maybe over a beer or two, if the opportunity arose. He could certainly try and help the universe along by quietly antagonizing the guy with his wardrobe - he definitely had enough Lakers gear in his suitcase at his apartment. He had six more weeks to start an argument with the guy without talking to him –  _ challenge accepted, _ he thought to himself.

The bassist was the most subdued of the guys onstage – he didn’t move or emote much, and he wore a plain black t-shirt over skinny jeans. From the way Shane kept looking back at him, it was clear that the band as a whole regarded him as the backbone of the group. There was a kind of powerful aura radiating from him, and Ryan respected the hell out of that – much like the other guitarist, he had the air of the kind of guy Ryan wished he was. Cool, calm, collected, strong, not easily rattled…

The drummer was clearly the one having the most fun onstage. He never stopped smiling, even as he worked up a sweat and moved to the beat he provided. His hair kept flopping into his face, and as he tossed his head back, his glasses bounced on his nose. Even though he was the most hipster-looking white guy in the band, he seemed chill as hell, and he was wearing a Men In Black t-shirt, so Ryan could see them getting along.

It wasn’t just Shane who seemed cool, and Ryan used that as his justification for wanting to talk to them a little more. Sure, he was only around in a temporary capacity, but talking to cool people and pushing himself out of his comfort zone to do so was a good thing. And the internet existed, too – he could keep in touch even though he would head back to LA at the end of August. They wouldn’t all cease to exist. He could always invite Jen out to visit him and eat all the best food southern California had to offer, he could offer Joyce a couch to sleep on if she wanted to spend a weekend in the sun, he could give the band road trip tips if they decided to do a couple shows on the west coast.

It made sense in his brain, at least. He didn’t have to vocalize this to anyone just yet.

As their first song came to an end, Jen led the sparse crowd in enthusiastic applause, cheering and shouting and drawing far too much attention to their little corner of the bar. Ryan couldn’t even hide behind her, and he knew Shane noticed him – his grin grew, and he mouthed “hey” away from the mic.

Ryan blushed and mouthed “hey” back, smiling way too softly for a place like this.

“Alright, folks, if you’re new here, we’re the Skeptics,” Shane said, voice smooth and alluring as it boomed through the bar. “We’ll be entertaining you for a little bit tonight, and if you hate it, just suck it up and have another drink. I’ve been told we sound better after a few anyway.” 

Shane chuckled to himself while his bandmates groaned. The keyboard player mumbled “fuck off, Shane,” into the mic, and Ryan wheezed out a laugh. 

“So. That song was called Spark, and now we got a newer one – not that any of you care – that we’re gonna play for the first time! It’s called Strange Meeting and it goes a little like this.” Shane turned back to the band, and even though they all clearly knew what song was coming, they waited until  _ then _ to change their tuning. The other guitarist swapped out his guitar and smirked at Shane. “And the band decided to ruin my timing, so thanks, Teej, really appreciate that.”

The other guitarist – Teej – laughed. “‘S what you get for your shitty joke, dude!”

Teej got settled with his acoustic guitar, and their drummer counted them in. This one was softer at the start, but it built, and it was strangely beautiful in the way it did. Jen was swaying back and forth on her stool, clearly into it, and even Joyce had taken a moment to watch and listen intently. It was good – obviously an unfamiliar sound for them, considering how subdued and focused they all seemed onstage – but it worked. And Shane, of course, sounded fantastic. He and the guy on keyboard harmonized so wonderfully together. Ryan wished he’d thought to pull out his phone to record the audio, quiet chatter of the other people at the bar included.

Even as the song ended and Ryan took the lead in whistling and cheering as loud as he could – earning another nod from Shane – there was some kind of magic that fell over the bar. It felt so entirely different from any other room that Ryan had ever been in; something about the place felt like family, like home, like Ryan had never been more comfortable anywhere else in the world. He could already feel himself missing it, even though he had a few more weeks to enjoy this –  _ anticipation of loss, _ his therapist had called it.

Ryan was a fantastic overthinker, and his brain often spiraled out of control at the slightest provocation without his permission. His anxiety sometimes – okay, a  _ lot _ of times – got the best of him, even when it was daydreaming up cool scenarios he’d be too scared to ever actually attempt. He knew he shouldn’t keep thinking about how all of this was temporary, and that no matter how good things were in this moment, they wouldn’t last forever, but he couldn’t pull his brain back from that ledge. He stared at the wall behind Joyce’s head, losing track of time and space and dissociating even as Jen and Joyce and the band were loud and present around him. It wasn’t until Joyce took his empty bottle away that he realized he’d been gone for a while, drinking his beer and in his own head.

“You good, man?” she asked, hand hesitating as it reached for a glass. “You need a water?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m— I’m fine, yeah, water’s good.” He rubbed at his eyes with his right hand and sighed. “Just got a little spacey, that’s all. Long day. Long  _ week.” _

“As long as you’re good.” Joyce handed him his water and placed an extra glass where Jen had been sitting – and Jen was weirdly absent.  _ When did she leave? Did I really not notice? _ “You were spaced out pretty bad. She’s in the bathroom.”

“Thanks.”  _ Are all bartenders secretly psychic? _ he wondered to himself. Was it part of the job requirements? It certainly felt that way sometimes. Joyce in particular was  _ way _ too good at reading his face, considering they’d only known each other for a total of maybe six hours. Maybe he was just an open book these days – or maybe Joyce was an empath or something.

Psychic ability was the least likely theory, but he kept it in his head anyway. Just in case.

He jumped a bit as Shane spoke into the microphone again. “Alright, folks, this is our last song.” He paused, and someone cheered. “Well you don’t have to sound so  _ excited _ about it,” he teased, and laughter rippled across the bar. “Like I said, we’re the Skeptics. Goodnight!”

This song was another slower one, a sultry, romantic jam of a tune that soared and floated in a way that soothed Ryan’s weirdly anxious brain. He listened to him croon, and Shane’s voice sounded smoother and more powerful than it ever had before. 

This time, Ryan thought quick enough to pull out his phone and open a voice memo; sure, he’d missed the first verse, but he could at least have a little bit of this bar and this band with him when he ended up heading home. Once his phone was safe on the bar top, he propped his head up with one hand and watched the Skeptics play, hoping that he didn’t look too dreamy or creepy in the process.

Jen didn’t reappear until after the song was over, and she looked a little flustered when she sat back down. “Oh my god, so. Totally forgot how nice and pretty drunk girls in the bathroom are. I just got so aggressively complimented by them. It was the  _ best.” _

Ryan laughed. “Hey, love that for you, Jen. It’s what you deserve for coming here with me tonight and putting up with a straight bar.”

Jen shoved at him playfully, and as Ryan was laughing hard enough that barely any sound was coming out, he slipped backwards a bit and was stopped, thankfully, by what felt like a human person.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, turning around and being greeted with that godawful polo shirt. His eyes trailed up, and he couldn’t help but smile – Shane was beaming down at him, hair sticking up every which way as he chuckled a little. “Oh. Hi again, man.”

“Hey. Good to see you. ‘M glad you could make it back and we didn’t scare you away.” Shane ran one of those big yet delicate hands through his hair, and Ryan tried his hardest not to watch him closely as he did. “Seems like you enjoyed the show tonight.” He held his hand out towards Jen. “I’m Shane."

“I’m Jen, this idiot’s friend,” she said with a smirk, looking over at Ryan who was very quietly wishing for death. “Good show. Ryan was right about you guys.”

“Oh  _ was _ he now?” Ryan wanted to smack the shit-eating grin right off of Shane’s face, but he refrained. Just barely. “What did Ryan say about us, anyway? Do tell.” Shane leaned on the bar, propping his head up in his hand, and Ryan groaned and covered his face.

“Oh, just that you guys looked like you should suck but definitely don’t.” Jen said it so casually; Ryan, however, was praying to god that a hole would open up in the floor and swallow him whole. God didn’t answer his prayers this time – not that he ever did, but once would be nice. Especially now.

Shane barked out a loud, joyful laugh, and he threw his head back as he did so. His laugh then dissolved into a noiseless wheeze, and Ryan found himself laughing along behind his hands. “Shut up, Shane,” he mumbled, and that just made Shane laugh harder.

“I’m gonna put that on our posters.  _ ‘We look like we should suck, but we don’t.’ _ Oh, god, that’s gold.” Shane wiped at his eyes and looked down at Ryan in a way that could only be described as fond. “Thanks, man. You’re a marketing genius.”

“Fuck off, dude,” but there was no heat behind Ryan’s words. “Don’t you have a van to load up or some shit?”

Shane looked up, back towards his bandmates, and then back at Ryan. “Yeah. I do. But I can spare a few moments to talk to the cute guy at the bar.”

Ryan’s brain didn’t process the words fast enough, because  _ what the fuck, _ and by the time he’d registered that Shane had just called him  _ cute, _ Shane had a beer in hand and was walking away. “See you guys later. Have a good night, Ry.”

Jen’s horrible snap of him looking dumbstruck and a little bit smitten at the bar while Joyce laughed at him would become his contact photo in her phone, and the rest of the crew sent him varying screenshots of it as soon as she’d posted it. Any embarrassment, though, felt small and insignificant in the face of Shane calling him cute.

If he held onto that thought, it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh wow hello there i realized i forgot to link my tumblr in the notes last chapter so [boop](http://anxiousghouligan.tumblr.com/) here it is, please come talk to me about this universe or the boys or literally anything.
> 
> also if you want to see ryan argue with someone about game 6 of the 2002 western conference finals in the nba (which you really should it's fuckin hilarious) please check out [this video](https://youtu.be/NU_QFMJD3z0) \- sports conspiracies is a golden series and should be appreciated more. ryan's particularly insufferable in this one, and i hope that translated to that bit of the fic.
> 
> i have about 23k words written for this fic already and i'm not even half done and i'm genuinely proud of what i've got so please leave me thoughts! i love this universe i've crafted and i wanna talk about it with everybody.


	3. week of june 25th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [luke harper wwe voice] it's friday. you know what that means.
> 
> [here's](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0EDmXAdHlO8yxeKcUaqMxe?si=G9NlrU2PSwGEeQX0TVY6rw) this chapter's playlist, the last three songs being the ones playing after the skeptics finish their set.

They were due to have an overnight shoot, and Ryan had shown up to set with an extra coffee for Jen that evening – only to find out that one of the actors had gotten a really bad case of food poisoning and couldn’t work that night. The director was angry about the delay, but Ryan and Jen glanced at each other and immediately knew what they’d be doing after breaking down the equipment.

The walk to the Innertown was filled with laughter as Jen told Ryan all about the crazy stuff she’d done growing up in the suburbs of Chicago. “I really don’t know why I haven’t left. I guess it’s just… not something I ever thought about. But like— it makes sense to leave. To move somewhere with more job opportunities.” She looked up at Ryan and smiled, shrugging a little as she jammed her hands into her pockets. “Maybe I’ll look into it after this job’s done. Y’know. No guarantees, but… maybe.”

“Hey, you know I’ll do whatever I can to help,” Ryan said, fixing the hat he was wearing. He turned it around backwards, leaning into what his little brother called “the adult fratboy” look he sometimes ended up sporting; Jen dressed in a similar way, which made him feel a little more confident in himself.

The shirt he’d worn that day was a hair too tight on his biceps, his hat looked good on him, and his jeans fit perfectly. As he opened the door to the Innertown Pub for Jen, he knew he looked damn good, and he let that confidence carry him in.

The bar was fuller than it had ever been when Ryan showed up, and he figured that was because they were showing up hours later than they normally did. They were greeted by the Skeptics playing on the stage towards the back, and when Joyce noticed them enter, she smiled.

The spot that Ryan had started thinking of as his own was occupied, and he frowned a little as he looked around trying to find somewhere for him and Jen to sit.

His eyes locked on an empty high top not too far from the stage, and he reached down to take Jen’s hand. “Follow me,” he shouted back at her as he dragged her forward.

Living in Los Angeles and frequenting Disneyland on his days off had made him a master of weaving through crowds, and Jen kept up pretty well for someone with shorter legs and no real idea where Ryan was leading her. They scooted past several people swaying with drinks in hand, sidestepping a few members of the wait staff; Ryan did his best to not look up at the stage as they moved, just in case he got distracted. His track record when it came to that wasn’t exactly the best.

They finally,  _ finally _ made it to the empty high top as the song ended, and Ryan clapped a few times as he sat down and giggled as Jen had to hoist herself up into the seat. “Fuck off,” she said with a laugh, shifting so she was actually sitting comfortably. “Or I’ll bring up how Shane was totally flirting—” 

“La la la la, I can’t hear you,” Ryan said, not even looking at her. He twisted in his seat, away from her so he could see the stage, and he swore Shane looked away from him as Ryan turned towards him. Wishful thinking, maybe.

“Okay, folks, this next song has a great title, and I wanna share it with you.” Shane was smiling at the crowd, a little scruffier than usual, wearing a green t-shirt over some plain jeans. Simple, and for the first time since Ryan had started coming here, he looked like he actually tried to dress like a reasonable human. It was almost disorienting.

“So I wrote the lyrics for this years ago, but I never gave the song a name, ‘cause I didn’t know what would fit. And then Mark—” and Shane turned to gesture at the bassist, who raised one hand in acknowledgement. “—Mark went ‘how about you name it Rock Song?’ And I went hey, that fits! So here’s a rock song called Rock Song. We’re very creative.”

Ryan laughed a little as the band started playing, and he only tore his eyes away when a cute blonde server appeared at their table. Jen was making visible heart eyes at her, and Ryan totally understood; she was the kind of person who radiated happiness and joy and fun. “I’m Kelsey,” she said with a smile, putting two little napkins down on their table and tucking her tray under her arm. “You guys look like you know what you want, which is great, ‘cause it makes my job easier. What can I getcha?”

Ryan ordered his usual, and gently nudged Jen’s leg under the table with his foot to try and get her to focus on ordering – while Kelsey was looking at Ryan, Jen had decided the Skeptics were the most interesting thing in the world. She turned back, looking like a deer in headlights for a split second before she managed to stutter out her drink order. Kelsey left the table with a blinding grin and Jen put her head down. 

Ryan patted her shoulder gently. “You’re a disaster.”

Jen’s response was muffled by her arms, but he was pretty sure she’d said “I know.”

He let her gather herself in peace, watching the band and tapping his fingers on the table to the beat of the drums. Kelsey reappeared with their drinks before going off to another table, and Ryan watched Jen watch her leave with a wistful sigh. He wasn’t going to poke fun, though – he had no right to, considering the ridiculous almost-crush he was harboring on someone in the room.

Ryan stood up enough to move his chair so he had a better view of the band, Teej and Shane having a bit of fun with the bridge while Mark drove the song on with that steady, powerful bass line. This was the most relaxed Ryan had seen the band in his few weeks coming to the Innertown, and it made everything feel so much more fun in the bar itself. Most of the people in the crowd were already a few drinks deep, with a few of the younger patrons waving their glasses in the air as the band played. That familiar, homey feeling washed over Ryan again, and he smiled as he sipped from his bottle. Onstage, Shane glanced over and smiled as he caught Ryan’s eye before he started singing again – this line felt directed at Ryan, and part of Ryan melted. He kept tapping his foot, watching and waiting for the moment when he could sing the “whoa-oh” back at Shane.

Shane had to step back to laugh when he did, and Ryan considered that a victory; when the song ended, he cheered the loudest. Jen was going to be loud for him if he didn’t, and he’d rather look like an active participant in getting all the attention in the bar on him. It felt less awful that way, and Jen’s happy smile made the temporary humiliation feel less… intense. Knowing someone he thought was cool didn’t think less of him in the moment made it easier to shove those anxious thoughts to the back corner of his brain.

“This is gonna be our last song,” Shane said as the final note faded away completely. “It’s a little more… country than you’re used to hearing from us, but we still think it’s good. Have a good night, and thank you!”

The song started with a delicate piano melody and a bouncing bass line, and yeah, Shane was right - it sounded way more country than Ryan would’ve anticipated even with the warning. He fought back the grimace he could feel trying to work its way onto his face. Country was never his genre, but he wanted to give this a chance, because the Skeptics had a way of surprising him every time he heard them play.

This time, of course, was no different.

The way Shane sang over the twangy guitar riffs made it something Ryan would enjoy, and then Teej and the keyboard guy came in with airy harmonies and it sounded  _ beautiful. _ The words told a story that Ryan hadn’t paid close enough attention to to really appreciate; he quietly hoped someday he’d get to hear this in a more controlled environment so he could listen to it intently. That, though, was a tall ask, and was assuming a hell of a lot of things that would maybe never actually happen. Ryan really needed to get a grip and focus on reality and not the fictional universe half of his brain kept building him.

The song ended, and the band set to work on packing up their gear; like every other night Ryan had been here, after Shane’s guitar was safely back in its case, he headed to the bar to grab a beer of his own. The rest of the guys kept working, wrapping up cords and wires and tossing spare guitar picks in pockets; only when they were done and their stuff was piled near a back door did they all migrate towards the bar for their hard-earned drinks.

That’s when Shane made his way over to the table where Jen and Ryan were sitting, stealing an empty chair from another nearby high top and pulling it over. He sat down in it like a cool substitute teacher would, long, thin arms draped over the back, a beer in one of those hands that Ryan hated thinking about. “Hey, Ry, hi Jen, I didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

Jen kicked at his shin under the table, and Ryan kicked back as she smiled. “Some shit happened at work and we got off early, score!” She threw up a shaka, and Ryan nodded at her in approval.

“Yeah, we were supposed to be filming all night. Like, until dawn. But uh, someone got food poisoning that just cost the production company about five grand, so. We came here.” Ryan shrugged, took another sip of his beer, and watched as Shane nodded.

“Filming, huh? That big movie production thing happening across town?”

“Mmhm, that’s us. Sorry for all the traffic problems we’ve been causing.” Jen downed the rest of her drink in one go before hopping off her chair. “If you’ll excuse me, I gotta go make a quick call.”

Ryan’s eyes begged her to stay. Her eyes just laughed at his desperation in return.

Friendship  _ over. _

Shane chuckled a little as Ryan settled back in his seat, studying the label on his beer very, very closely. “So you work in film. That’s cool. You a director?”

“God, I  _ wish. _ Nah. Right now I’m just doing camera work. Great use of my film degree.” Despite his best efforts, the bitterness bled through in his tone, and he shook his head. “It’s a great opportunity, and it’s gonna help me get better jobs. So really I should be grateful, y’know?”

“I know.” Shane’s tone was calm, even, understanding; Ryan felt scarily at ease when Shane spoke to him. It wasn’t even like he was being treated with kid gloves, which sometimes his therapist even slipped up and did. Shane was just… reasonable. It was something so rare and so wonderful. “But something can be good for you in the long run and suck ass in the moment. That’s a totally normal thing.” He took a sip from his beer. “That’s how I felt when I got laid off as a teacher. But it let me start writing for the band, so. It was kind of a blessing, I guess.”

“Wait, wait, wait – you’re a  _ teacher?” _

“Ah – I  _ was _ a teacher. Now I’m just a substitute, so I hand out worksheets and try and keep the kids from burning the classroom down.” He tipped his bottle towards Ryan, and Ryan laughed. “And at night, I moonlight as the lead singer for a rock and roll band.”

“That explains the whole…” Ryan waved his hand at Shane’s whole person, motioning at the way he was sitting and his outfit and everything about him. “... vibe,” he finished lamely.

“And what would my vibe be, Ryan?”

“My first thought was cool substitute.”

“Y’know what? I’ll take it.”

They settled into a companionable silence for a few minutes, sharing their beers and listening to the chatter all around them. Ryan’s phone vibrated where it lay, face-down on the table, and he picked it up to see a text from Jen.

_ have fun, loverboy! :* _

** _fuck off you’re the worst i hate you_ **

** _see you tomorrow i’ll bring coffee_ **

“Jen bailed,” Ryan said as an explanation as he put his phone down with a weary sigh. Shane just nodded and scooted his chair a little closer to the table.

“She’s about as subtle as a jackhammer, does she know that?” Shane was clearly teasing, but that feeling – the one where he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole forever – crept up his spine. He tried to keep the dread and embarrassment off his face.

“Probably. I’ll tell her you said that, though.” Ryan laughed a little, because it  _ was _ funny, but it didn’t sound as genuine as he would’ve liked.

“Thanks. I feel like she should know. Just in case she tries to set any of her other friends up.” Shane was grinning as he said it, though, and that desire dissipated a little bit. The way he was acting implied he didn’t mind too much; he didn’t seem to care that Jen wanted Ryan and him to have a connection, and he didn’t care that Ryan didn’t deny it. So maybe there  _ was _ a reason to have a little tiny shred of hope.

“Yeah, she uh… she’s a great wingman sometimes, but it can be hit or miss, apparently.” With every word that left his mouth, Ryan wanted to die a little bit more, and he decided to follow Jen’s lead and change the subject with no grace or tact. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask – how’d you guys choose the band name, anyway? It’s great, by the way.”

Shane’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared behind his hair, but he didn’t comment on Ryan’s horrible mess of a segue. “Oh, uh. We all met in college and it turns out we all loved the X-Files growing up. Hence the Skeptics, ‘cause Dana Scully’s the best.”

Ryan nodded. “Dude, yes. The X-Files is the shit.” He finished off his beer and went to grab his wallet before he realized. “Wait – are you more of a Mulder or a Scully?”

Shane laughed like that was the most ridiculous question in the world, and Ryan watched him silently while he waited for an answer. It took Shane a minute to realize Ryan  _ expected _ one. “Oh, you’re serious. I’m a Scully, Ry. Aliens are real, but they probably aren’t hanging out with humans because humans suck. Bigfoot is  _ probably _ real, but it’s a species and not just one creature. The rest of the supernatural bullshit? Absolutely fake.”

Ryan scoffed and shook his head, crossing his arms. “Ohoho, no way, dude. You can believe in Bigfoot but not, like… ghosts?”

“Why would I believe in  _ ghosts? _ There’s no evidence. I can’t see ‘em.”

“There’s— oh my god. No. We’re not having this conversation right now.” Ryan sat up a bit straighter and finished pulling the money for his and Jen’s drinks out of his wallet. He tossed a wad of cash down on the table and weighed it down with his bottle. “And you seemed  _ so _ cool, dude.”

Shane was laughing at him, expression incredulous. “You believe in ghosts. Oh my god, this is amazing. I—”

It was then that Teej called Shane’s name from the door where their gear was stacked. “Shane! C’mon, man, we gotta load up!”

“Well, Ryan, that’s my cue. We’ll continue this next week.” Shane downed the rest of his beer and slammed the bottle on the table with an accidental aggressiveness that made Ryan jump. “See you later, Spooky.”

And with a wink, he was off, leaving Ryan alone to process what the  _ fuck _ his life had become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm trying to get another 5k written today so this will be my first official completed nanowrimo project - we're at 40.1k words currently. rest assured this will not be abandoned because i love it so much.
> 
> let me know what you think - comments make writing worth it, i love hearing feedback, etc.
> 
> also come talk to me on [tumblr](http://anxiousghouligan.tumblr.com/) abt the boys.
> 
> see ya next week!


	4. week of july 2nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some housekeeping stuff to note before we jump in!
> 
> \- new title, same great fic: i've been toying with the idea of changing the title just slightly for a couple weeks now, and i did it. _all the songs i sing (i wrote for you)_ just fits the whole story better.  
\- you may have noticed that this is chapter four of 19 now - chapter 12 ended up being so long i cut it in half! we get one extra chapter now baybeeeee.  
\- i've started a tag on my [tumblr](http://anxiousghouligan.tumblr.com/tagged/atsis-verse/) where i'm going to put stuff that inspired parts of this fic or that just fits this fic. just in case y'all are interested.  
\- this fic actually got me my first-ever nanowrimo win (which i cried when i achieved). as of right now, it's sitting at about 55k words and i still have so much writing to do. i'm two chapters away from completing it and i'm very excited.
> 
> thank you endlessly to [jess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy) for the beta and being a cheerleader.
> 
> no soundtrack for this chapter! here you go!

Ryan was starting to think that this location was cursed.

On Tuesday, it was the lights; the new LED bulbs weren’t supposed to burn out until they hit some ungodly amount of use, but within two hours of setup, they were done. The backup bulbs had gone missing, and the night shoot had to be pushed back.

On Wednesday, they discovered one of the boom mics had been fried somehow. No matter what they did to attempt to fix it, the sound came through unintelligible. Nothing could be done without the boom mics both functioning at their best. The shoot had to be pushed back.

They’d shifted things to a shorter day of filming on Thursday to try and make up for lost time, and a storm rolled through that made it unsafe to work outside with long metal poles. And, because that wasn’t enough, the lead actress lost her voice completely.

The director had just given up at that point, and the weekend was free for all of the cast and crew. The production company was _not_ happy, but there was nothing that could be done. Ryan certainly wasn’t going to hang around to listen to his director complain and yell at people with no power to fix anything.

Ryan had no idea what to do with a suddenly free afternoon – Jen was hanging out with her college friends, and she’d invited him, but he’d passed because he didn’t really feel up to meeting a huge crowd of loud, rowdy people for the first time. Jen understood, because she was the best, and let him ditch without too much of a hassle.

He decided exploring the city was probably his best option; he’d been living here since shooting started the month before, and he’d only really seen the set and the Innertown. Sure, that’s all he really needed to feel like Chicago was a great place, but there was so much more he could see and do. The place was a tourist destination, after all, and with that in mind, he grabbed his phone, his wallet, and a hoodie and headed out.

The metro was easy enough to figure out, and he rode that into the heart of the city before pulling out his phone to look at a map. The Bean was out – it was a big, weird statue, and he’d seen enough of those on various campuses he’d visited. There were some museums he could peruse through, and an aquarium he definitely wanted to hit up before he left the city, but for this one stormy Thursday, he’d let the wind take him.

***

At least that’s what he did until the storm got bad and he was forced to duck into a tiny coffee shop for shelter. They were playing some soft indie music to set the mood inside, and the air conditioning was on blast; it made the damp fabric of Ryan’s hoodie stick to his skin, making him shiver. He shed that outer layer and ran a hand through his hair, knowing full well it would start curling the second it started to dry. _Great._

The coffee, at least, smelled amazing, and he got in line to order a large iced one to drink while he waited out the terrible rain. There was a table tucked away in a back corner, and the only other person sitting in the area was a man who was engrossed in scribbling in his notebook. He’d be decent enough non-company, so Ryan headed his way, tucking himself in the booth before looking up at the table positioned a row away from his.

“Holy shit, Shane?”

The man looked up and smiled immediately – it was, in fact, Shane, his hair held back from his face with a plain black bandana. “Hey, Ryan, fancy seeing you here!” He shifted his notebook underneath his hand before motioning towards the other chair at his tiny table for two. Ryan got up and moved, taking a seat at his table since Shane was offering; he draped his damp hoodie over the back of his chair to dry. “You got caught in the rain.” Shane wasn’t asking, but his expression made it clear he wanted Ryan to answer the question he didn’t ask. So Ryan did his best.

“Yeah, I was just exploring – we got an unexpected free day off, so y’know, I thought I’d see the city I’ve been living in for a month ‘cause I really haven’t seen much, like, at all. All I do is go to set, go to the bar, go sleep. I thought the worst of the storm had passed. Turns out I was really, really wrong.” He wiped at his face, grimacing as his eyes burned a bit with the rainwater slipping under his contacts. “So now I’m here until nature calms the fuck down and I can get back to the place I’m staying at.”

“At least you got trapped somewhere where the tea is good.” Shane held out one of the napkins he’d put under his mug of hot tea; Ryan had a lot of questions, but he ignored them in favor of using the napkin to dry his face off.

“I’m more of a coffee guy, but everything here seems, like, way too good to be true. I can’t remember the last time I went to a coffee shop that had coffee that actually _smelled_ good.” He laughed a little – that sentence sounded far more ridiculous than he originally expected it to.

Shane apparently thought so too, and he hid his laugh behind one of his hands. There was a smudge of ink down the side from where he’d been writing. “It sounds like you need to go to better coffee shops, then.”

“Yeah, I’m realizing that now.”

That comfortable silence they’d shared the last time they’d talked at the Innertown fell over them again, and Shane moved his hand to scribble down something else in the notebook he’d hidden away from Ryan’s view. Ryan very pointedly didn’t even _look_ in that general direction; he sipped at his iced coffee, closed his eyes at how fantastic it tasted, and when he opened them again, he stared out the window at the rain, which was still coming down in sideways sheets.

It was amazing to Ryan that someone he didn’t know well at all could make him feel this completely at ease. He was rarely comfortable with silence with his other friends. He was an extrovert, and anxious about almost every aspect of his life, so often times he’d fill silence with chatter in an effort to prevent his brain from spiraling out of control. But with Shane, that didn’t seem to be a problem. Shane was sitting there, writing in a notebook that was clearly meant to be private, and he didn’t feel like an annoyance or like he was unwanted for once. He had no reason to feel so secure in this barely-even-a friendship, but his brain didn’t even _start_ to go down those self-loathing roads.

It was nothing short of a miracle.

He drank his iced coffee in silence, scrolling through Twitter on his phone for a bit before texting his family group chat to ask for pictures of their dogs. Within a few minutes, his phone was exploding with them, and he took the time to heart react every single one - even the one sent by his brother that he’d captioned “fuck you for waking me up.” By the time he was done, the Forbidden Notebook was tucked into Shane’s bag, and Shane was just… smiling at him.

“What?”

“Nothing. Just thought you looked happy. It was nice.” When Ryan opened his mouth to ask what the hell Shane was talking about, Shane held up a hand to silence him. “Most nights I see you, you’re holding back. And I get it, bars are crowded and loud and not the greatest place to be unless you’re drunk. I feel like you’re… more relaxed here. Happy, but without all those…” He wiggled his fingers in the air. “... strings attached.”

Well _that_ was a good deal more perceptive than Ryan had anticipated.

“I mean… yeah. I’m, um. I’m an anxious guy sometimes.” _That’s the understatement of the century._ “But it’s a lot better than it used to be. And really, it’s not that bad at the Innertown. If you wanna see bad, shove me in, like, the Viper Room in LA. It’s crowded, it’s expensive, it’s shitty, _and_ it’s haunted.”

Shane guffawed, eyes crinkling up as he did. He looked kind of ridiculous – bandana on, bright floral-patterned shirt, mug of hot tea in the middle of summer – but he was still _cute,_ which was entirely unfair. No one should be cute looking like he did, and _especially_ not when he was laughing at Ryan.

“Right, right, you believe in ghosts.” He went to sip at his tea and snorted into it instead, pausing for a second before he actually managed to get a drink. “I forgot about that, forgive me.”

“And I forgot you’re an asshole who can’t see what’s right in front of him.”

One of Shane’s eyebrows arched. “Is that so? Are _you_ a ghost, Ryan?”

Ryan spluttered and shook his head. “No. But there’s so much _evidence,_ Shane. I can pull it up for you—” He unlocked his phone and went to open Youtube, but Shane pushed it back down to the table.

“Wind. Dust. Old houses. Nothing that’s out there is even close to compelling. Trust me, I’ve looked. Until I see real, solid proof of a ghost? I’m not buyin’ it, man.”

“But there’s so much stuff that you know is real that you _can’t see!”_ Ryan huffed.

“Like what? Name one thing.” Shane put his mug down and crossed his arms, waiting for an answer.

“Gravity.” He smirked; _got you, Shane, take that._

Shane chuckled a bit before he sat up. “I can drop something. An _apple,_ for example.”

Newton. _Shit._ “Fuck.”

That got Shane to laugh for real, and it echoed around the mostly-empty shop. It was a good noise, an infectious one, and Ryan laughed along with him. It was nice to know that no matter how heated their dumb argument got, there was never going to be any lasting bad blood. Ryan could already tell that much – he’d once gotten into an argument very similar to the one they’d just had with an old college buddy. They’d stopped talking a week later.

None of that negative energy seemed to be here, and Ryan was grateful for it.

“Listen, Ry. I’d love to believe in something like that, y’know? It goes so far beyond what I know to be true. It’d be a hell of a thing to see. But until I see it, I’m not gonna jump in and believe.” He shrugged. “You’re a film guy, maybe you can get a video of a ghoul or something for me.”

“Don’t challenge me, Shane, I’ll do it. Just to make you eat your words.”

“Bring it on—” Shane paused, cutting himself off. “I feel like this would be more powerful if I knew your last name.”

“Bergara,” Ryan offered. “For future reference.”

“Ryan Bergara,” Shane said, as if he was testing it out. “Good name, very director-y. Anyway— bring it on, Bergara.” He stood up, grabbing his bag from where it was set on the floor. He was frighteningly tall now that Ryan was on a normal height chair and not at the bar, and he had to actively look _up_ to maintain eye contact. His legs really were _disproportionately_ long. “I gotta go tutor some kids in history, maintain that _cool substitute teacher_ vibe.” He turned and started to head out, missing Ryan’s blush, thankfully. Ryan let him go for a moment before he stood up abruptly, chair scraping against the tile floor.

“Wait, hold up, no!” He frowned, and Shane turned around, looking more than a little amused. “I don’t get a last name? That’s a little unbalanced, don’t you think?”

Shane’s look of amusement melted into one of genuine fondness, his smile so soft and bright and fitting, here in the quietest little coffee shop in Chicago. He fit here just as well as he did in the neon lights of the Innertown, and for a split second, Ryan swore Shane took his breath away.

“Madej,” he told him. “I’m Shane Madej.”

“Alright. I’ll see you around, Madej.”

This time, there was no questioning whether or not the wink was meant for him. “I know you will, Bergara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i'm posting this a bit early but i'm gonna be swamped tomorrow so i figured i'd do it now. next week i have a bonus story within this universe (the all the songs verse, or the atsis verse, whichever you prefer) that i'll also be posting. 
> 
> come chat on [tumblr](http://anxiousghouligan.tumblr.com) and talk to me about this fic thank u


	5. week of july 9th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> one little housekeeping note before we dive in: yes there are 20 chapters now. yes this story is still getting out of hand. i have ~62k written with two-ish chapters to go so.
> 
> also! i will be posting a bonus story in this 'verse as soon as this is posted! please check it out i'm so stoked to delve into this expanded universe more.
> 
> we're introducing a bunch of new folks today - here's the [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0gxMNH0pnQaS3TgzQB3BLW?si=ng_6K1uKSKCSbQUKT7OgDQ) for the chapter. the first song is what is playing before the set. enjoy!

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Ryan’s night on location felt productive. They managed to make up for a little lost time, and even though the company was still out several thousand dollars for all the mishaps so far, it felt good – it felt worthy of celebrating. With a day off ahead of them, most of the crew decided to get some sleep before heading out for some drinks together. “Ryan knows this great bar,” Jen had said, and everyone was willing to follow her lead.

Ryan only managed to get an hour of sleep as a result. His anxiety was a powerful, near-tangible thing, and the most he was able to do was lay with his eyes closed for a bit; he recovered a little, but certainly not enough.

When laying in bed in the dark got too boring to tolerate anymore, he ended up wandering to the coffee shop a couple blocks from the apartment where he was staying; he grabbed the largest iced latte they had with an extra shot of espresso, and he drank it with the leftover Chinese food in his fridge. It wasn’t an appetizing combo by any means, but it did the job and gave him the energy to shower and do his hair and make himself look somewhat presentable for the crew’s night out.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he’d probably see Shane.

After messing with his hair for a truly ludicrous amount of time – he had five unread texts from Jen, varying from “get down here you useless bisexual we’re waiting” to “i will scale this building like king kong and pull you out a window hurry upppppp” – he finally looked in the mirror and felt okay with what was looking back at him. His glasses hid the bags under his eyes pretty effectively, and the pink patterned shirt he’d pulled out didn’t look too fancy for the Innertown. His hair was fluffier than he normally liked, and he didn’t have time to shave, but it’d have to do. The dim bar lights would help hide the parts he wasn’t totally satisfied with. He left the bathroom, turned off the lights, and patted his pockets to make sure he had everything with him. Once he was positive his keys were in his pocket, he let the apartment door shut behind him and headed down the stairs.

The crew was waiting outside the building for him as the sun set and cast the world in that gorgeous golden glow he loved so much. Jen was dancing with one of the unit production managers, Devon, and a production assistant named Curly while Steven – one of their lighting guys – played some Carly Rae Jepsen from his phone. Andrew, another one of the camera operators on the shoot, was scrolling through on his phone. “C’mon, guys, live a little!” Steven shimmied his way up to Andrew, grinning, and Andrew just gave him a fondly annoyed look over his phone.

“No. Ryan’s here now anyway.”

“He emerges! I thought I was gonna have to come up there,” Jen said, straightening up as Steven turned the music off. 

“I know, I could tell by your texts.” He laughed and started walking towards the corner. “I should’ve let you try and find a way to climb up the outside.”

“Oh, I’d pay good money to see that,” Andrew said from the back of the ragtag group. “Are we talking like Spider-Man? Is that how that would happen?”

“I said King Kong but Spider-Man makes way more sense.” Jen linked arms with Steven, and Steven shortened his steps so Jen wouldn’t have to run to keep up with his pace. “You look good, Ry. Any particular reason?”

He could feel her knowing gaze in the back of his head, and he pointedly ignored Devon and Curly’s little “ooh” from behind him. Ryan kept walking, lifting his right hand to flip Jen off, which made the whole group laugh. “I just wanted to actually look like I gave a shit for you guys. It’s not every night I invite my coworkers to hang out with me – you guys are special.” He laid the sarcasm on thick for that last part, turning back to gauge their reactions.

Devon booed him and he laughed out loud. 

Curly just shook his head and jogged a little so he could reach up and ruffle Ryan’s hair, making Ryan duck away and swear under his breath. “C’mon, Bergara, you know you’d be miserable without us.”

“Honestly? With Peretti? Yeah, I would be. You got me there.”

Steven nodded as he took a quick picture of the six of them walking for one of his many social medias. “Yeah. Like I get it, it’s his first major project for a major studio. He’s under a lot of pressure and this has been, like, wildly difficult. But he needs to back the fuck off and let us do our jobs. We’re capable, or else we wouldn’t have been hired.”

“See, now, that makes sense,” Andrew said, tucking his phone into his back pocket. “Which is probably why Peretti isn’t thinking of it. Logic escapes that guy. He  _ lives _ to make things difficult.”

“You’re completely right, but as the only manager in this group, I’m going to ban all work talk for the rest of the evening.” Devon’s voice was firm but fair, the way it often was at work, and none of them were brave enough to challenge her. “We’re gonna go out, we’re gonna drink too much, and then we’re probably gonna drunkenly roam the streets looking for food. Sound good?”

Jen’s smile was brighter than the sunlight reflecting off the skyscraper windows in front of them. “Hell yeah it does.”

The walk took longer than it normally did, because leading this group down the sidewalk and keeping them out of the street was a lot like herding cats, and by the time they got to the Innertown, the sun had set. It wasn’t late enough that the bar was crowded, but The Skeptics were already setting up on the stage, and Joyce waved them over to the best table that could fit a group their size.

There wasn’t a lot of elbow room, and Ryan ended up with Jen’s head on his shoulder as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. He elbowed her, and she elbowed him back, and they only stopped when Curly, sat to Ryan’s right, elbowed him instead. “You’re like the two obnoxious little siblings I never asked for.”

“This place is kind of awesome, Ryan,” Devon said from across the table, looking around at the various neon signs and little pieces of Chicago’s history. “How’d you find it?”

Ryan laughed a little, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just… left my apartment and headed towards civilization and stopped at the first place advertising beer that I saw. I got  _ really _ lucky.”

That earned him another elbow from Jen.

Andrew was nodding along to the beat of the pop song that was playing over the bar’s sound system, engrossed in something on his phone. Steven leaned over to show him something, and he smiled; just as Steven was about to share with everyone else, Kelsey popped up at their table.

“You brought more friends!” she said with a smile, taking the pen from her bun to take their orders. “Hi, friends of Ryan! I’m Kelsey, I’m gonna take care of you tonight. What can I get for ya?”

Before Ryan could speak, Steven cut him off. “A round of tequila shots for the table.”

Andrew’s eyebrows shot up, Devon groaned, and Jen just laughed. Ryan was staring at Steven, waiting for him to admit he was kidding. 

“What?” Steven asked. “We’re here to celebrate. We’re celebrating right.”

“Hey, he’s got the right idea,” Jen said, getting a little more confident as she sat up. “Make it two.”

“Jen, no.”

“We got tomorrow off, we’re gonna be fine,  _ relax, _ Ryan.” Jen smiled at Kelsey, sweet and charming and fake-innocent. “Yeah. Two rounds of shots, and I’ll have a beer.”

Everyone else at the table followed suit, ordering something to get rid of the inevitable bad taste of tequila. The regret was already building in the back of Ryan’s mind, but he wasn’t about to back out and endure hell from Andrew  _ and _ Jen  _ and _ Steven.

It really settled in when the shots were at the table, rimmed in salt, a little dish of lime wedges set to the side.  _ We’re really doing this. _

The first one went down rough, like tequila shots always had in Ryan’s experience. He watched as Devon grimaced along with him, reaching for a lime wedge immediately. He followed suit, glaring at Curly, who was drinking his Coke smugly, and Andrew, who was handling this far too easily.

The next one only went down easier because he’d already done it once, and as soon as he swallowed, he was glad it was over. “I’m never letting you talk me into this again.”

“Did I ever tell you guys I fucking hate tequila?” Andrew said after he put the second shot glass down, and everyone laughed as Kelsey came to clear the remains of their bad decision away.

By the time their other drinks were in front of them, Ryan was feeling it a little, and the Skeptics were just about to start their set. Shane and Teej were looking at each other as they strummed the opening chords of their first song, and Jen cheered as loud as she could, and Mark was the one to look up and notice her. He smiled, just barely, and Jen raised her glass as Shane stepped towards the microphone to sing.

Unfortunately, Curly noticed Ryan’s contented little sigh. He caught Ryan’s eye and Ryan turned red, and he knew, somehow, that Curly could tell he was blushing even under the weird lighting.  _ Shit. _

“So. Tall and weird’s your type?” Curly was talking directly into Ryan’s ear, keeping it away from Steven and Andrew’s ears, and Ryan’s anger and embarrassment faded a little bit. “Personally? I don’t see it. But hey, go for it if he’s down.”

Ryan put his head down on the table. “I shoulda took you guys somewhere else.”

“But where’s the fun in that?” Curly was laughing at him, the asshole, and he pet Ryan’s hair gently. “You know I tease out of love.”

“You tease ‘cause you  _ suck.” _

“Oh,  _ pobrecito. _ Only if you ask nicely.”

Ryan sat up and grabbed his beer and glared at Curly as he took a sip and got back to watching the band. 

As he had the past few times he’d come to the bar, Shane caught his eye after the first song and smiled warmly at him, not acknowledging him in a greater capacity; it was like he knew Ryan hated being the center of attention in a crowd of strangers. Luckily, his friends around his table didn’t notice – they were too busy teasing Jen about her crush on Kelsey. Ryan, of course, joined in, and Shane’s introduction for the next song faded into the background chatter of the bar.

Steven, and Andrew were terrible, horrible influences, and as the night wore on, they goaded the rest of them into having one or two extra drinks; by the time they offered to cover the table’s tab, Devon and Jen were both completely drunk. Jen kept chewing on her straw and telling Ryan how pretty he was, and Devon was just going on and on about her boyfriend who was on a business trip and how much she missed him. Lucky for them, neither of them were truly sad drunks, just talkative, and Ryan let Jen rest her head on his shoulder.

He was definitely feeling it, and he flipped Curly off because Curly was sober and this was his fault – he didn’t stop any of them – and that was hardly fair.

“I really, really — I really want food,” Jen told him, straw still in her mouth. “Can we get food?”

“Ooh, yes, please, ‘m so hungry.” Devon reached out for Jen’s hand, and she took it, letting them dangle between their seats. “C’mon, Ry. Le’s go.”

Andrew came up behind them and steadied Devon as she got off her chair. “There’s a good Mexican place a couple blocks away. It’s open late, we could go get nachos.”

“Yeah! Oh, my god.” In her eagerness to go get food, Jen almost fell off her chair, and Curly had to catch her.

“Okay, honey, let’s get you some water before we start walking.”

Andrew and Curly left with Devon and Jen in tow, taking them to go rehydrate and hopefully help stave off the hangovers that would haunt them in the morning. Steven, however, stayed back, tossing a tip down on the table before throwing his overshirt on again. “Ry, you coming?”

“Nah,” Ryan said, waving him off. “‘M just gonna stay here. Thanks for tonight, man.”

“Thanks for taking us here, it’s been awesome. Get home safe, okay? Let me know when you do.” Steven patted his shoulder twice before catching up with Andrew and holding the door open so the five of them could leave.

And with that, Ryan was alone, listening to the Skeptics in the Innertown pub just like he had been that first night a month or so ago.

Whatever song they were playing was intense; Ryan felt a little more awake listening to it, and he sat up straighter so he could pay attention for at least a little bit. He’d been a terrible audience tonight, too preoccupied with teasing Steven and badgering Jen and trying to not give Curly any more ammunition to use against him. 

He wasn’t quite sure how well that last part went.

The song ended – Ryan had apparently missed a  _ lot _ – and Shane stepped up to the mic. “We’ve been the Skeptics! Good night!”

Against his better judgment, Ryan didn’t get up to leave then. He waited at his table, alone and a little drunk, watching as the band packed up their gear. This time, Shane waited for all of them to be done before he headed over to the bar, and Ryan swallowed hard. He kept his focus on a ring of water on the table top. Maybe this time Shane didn’t wanna talk to him. Maybe Shane was mad, maybe he didn’t wanna lead Ryan on because he’d gotten the wrong idea—

A bottle of beer in unfamiliar hands settled in Ryan’s line of sight, and he looked up to see Mark, the bassist of the Skeptics, sitting in the seat that Devon had left. “Hi, I’m Mark,” he said like Ryan wasn’t aware, holding out his hand.

Ryan shook it, confusion written all over his face. “I’m Ryan.”

He only got more confused when Teej sat next to Mark, and the guy who played keyboard sat next to him, and the drummer and Shane took the last two seats at the table. Shane, of course, settled in at Ryan’s side, right where Curly had sat, and for a brief moment his hand touched Ryan’s arm. It grounded him, calmed him down, and helped him feel a little less like he’d been surrounded by sharks in open waters.

“Hey, Ry,” Shane said, loud enough to be heard but soft enough to make Ryan’s heart flutter. “I thought it was about time you got to meet the rest of the band.”

“Oh.” He blinked, looking around the table and feeling incredibly stupid. “Oh, oh my god, okay, sure. Yeah. Let’s do that. Hi, I’m Ryan.”

The keyboard player next to him chuckled. “Yeah man, we know. I’m Zack. ‘S nice to finally put a face to the name. Shane talks about you, like, a lot more than he talks about other people.”

Ryan’s head whipped around immediately to look at Shane, who was blushing and covering his face with his hands. Teej laughed at him while the drummer clapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m Brent,” the drummer said, waving a little with the hand holding his beer. “That’s TJ,” he added, pointing at Teej who did a little head nod of acknowledgment. “If it makes it any better, Shane spent like twenty minutes the other day ranting about how ridiculous you are, so it’s like, not entirely sappy shit?”

“Guys, please,” Shane said into his hands. TJ laughed into his beer and shook his head.

“You did this same shit to me when I introduced you to my girlfriend. This is revenge, asshole.”

The world started to spin around him, and Ryan gripped the edge of the table. It wasn’t all alcohol – all this new information from new people was overwhelming to the point of a panic attack, and he took one deep, shaky breath followed by another.

Shane’s hand found his back; it was a barely-there touch, tentative and gentle and caring. “Hey, man, breathe, are you okay?”

It took Ryan a moment to collect himself. He kept focusing on his breathing and trying to regulate it, and he felt his brain back away from the ledge it had been careening towards. “Yeah, I’m… it’s just been a bit of a night and I’ve had  _ way _ too much to drink, I think.”

Shane nodded. “Hey, give me your phone.” He held out one of his hands and it took Ryan a second to find it to hand over. He unlocked it and gave it up, and Shane tapped the screen a few times before he started typing. “Normally we’d offer you a ride home, but we’re using Zack’s car and there’s no room left after we load our gear in.” He tapped the screen one last time, locking the phone with an air of satisfaction before handing it back. “So you gotta promise me you’ll let me know when you get back to your place safe, okay?”

“I… sure?” Ryan stood up, and he was pleased when he didn’t stumble or wobble. “Yeah. I can do that.”

“Good. Goodnight, Ryan. Walk safe.”

Ryan mostly forgot about what happened at the bar on his walk back to his place. His brain kept going over potential worst-case scenarios of what could happen in the two blocks between the bar and his apartment, and his hand gripped his keys a little too tightly in his pocket. Once he got inside the building, he felt like he could breathe again, but it wasn’t until he was in his bed that his head felt clear enough for Shane’s behavior at the bar to come flooding back.

He unlocked his phone and was greeted with a new contact: Shane, followed by a little alien emoji. He could feel his smile growing, and he immediately opened his texts so he could send a new message.

** _scully, it’s me._ **

** _by me i mean ryan._ **

** _i made it home safe just fyi._ **

_ Good, I’m glad you didn’t die. I feel like your friends would’ve killed me if you had. _

_ Sleep well, Spooky. _

The warm feeling in his chest stayed with him until he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> obligatory [talk to me on tumblr](https://mediumboybergara.tumblr.com/) plug


	6. week of july 16th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello hello pals! only one song featured this chapter, so [here's](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BIcCvWSkqJg) the link to that! i've been dealing with a lot of nonsense this past week as far as personal stuff goes, so i don't have a word count update, but the next chapter starts the Lengthy Stuff.
> 
> i also posted a [prequel](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21776707) one shot last week! if you haven't checked it out, i love it v much and would appreciate that. expect another one in the coming few weeks with another pairing.
> 
> enjoy!

** _okay, since we’re confessing embarrassing things_ **

** _i’ve never seen pulp fiction_ **

** _i’ve been pretending i have for years_ **

_ RYAN _

_ Ryan. _

_ Ryan you studied cinematography! You were a film major! _

** _listen i’ve just never really felt the urge to watch it!_ **

_ Oh my god. _

_ Don’t worry, Ry. We’re gonna fix you. _

Having Shane’s number in his phone was nothing like Ryan expected it to be. He’d planned on texting him just the once, to let him know he’d made it home safe, and leave it at that. He didn’t want to bother him or overstep any boundaries that he may not have known were there; he really liked Shane as a person, and he was hoping that somehow, someday they’d be friends.

Apparently they already were if Shane’s way-too-cheery-for-six-AM texts were anything to go by.

Shane had gotten into the habit of texting Ryan literally whenever for seemingly no reason. He’d gotten pictures of Shane’s cat, a video of Mark crocheting a hat “for this really sweet woman on Etsy,” and bizarre Wikipedia links to articles about obscure historical events.

Ryan always responded, and he forced himself to not put on an act via text. Shane was being himself with him, and he owed it to him to do the same in return.

So Shane got a lot of dumb texts in response: gifs of the [Fresno Nightcrawlers](https://thumbs.gfycat.com/ComposedClosedAmericancreamdraft-max-1mb.gif) at three in the morning captioned “me leaving set to go get taco bell and sleep,” weird history memes Ryan found on twitter, and unflattering pictures of Andrew and Jen eating sushi with too much wasabi on it. Shane always had something witty to say about all of it, and he never complained about the ungodly hour they were sent or that they were unnecessary or strange. 

And in between all of that, they had conversations about life and work and music and movies and everything else under the sun. It became a routine; out of the routine, a real, genuine friendship started to blossom.

It was better than any of Ryan’s ridiculous hopes and fantasies could have anticipated.

Ryan used a lot of his downtime on set - the few blocks of twenty or so minutes he got while actors reset and Peretti gave notes and directed the actors - to text Shane with dumb arguments to distract himself from the way the back of his neck was definitely getting sunburned and his feet were sweating horribly inside his boots.

** _okay so you don’t believe in stuff you can’t see_ **

** _one: have some faith asshole it’s good for the soul_ **

** _two: i just thought of something that wrecks that belief system_ **

_ Oh, Ryan. _

_ Please, do tell. _

_ Reminder: you already said gravity and I had to point out that Newton already disproved that hundreds of years ago. _

** _shut up, shane._ **

** _anyway: love. you can’t see that shit but it’s real._ **

_ Hm. _

** _hm????_ **

** _what does that even mean_ **

_ It means hm. _

** _i totally just blew your mind_ **

** _haha suck it madej_ **

_ You didn’t blow anything. _

_ I’m just saying it’s an interesting hypothesis. _

_ Aren’t you at work? _

** _yes :/_ **

** _shit i gotta go peretti’s about to blow a gasket_ **

** _feel free to tell me i’m right at any time, i’ll see it when i’m done._ **

Ryan got up from his seat and headed back to the camera he’d been working with, and shockingly, the rest of the work day flew by. His phone stayed buried in his back pocket; Peretti finally started listening to a few of Ryan’s suggestions, and he was incredibly pleased with the results. The job finally felt like it wasn’t sucking Ryan’s soul out of his body, but there was a downside: Ryan’s suggestions led to them running over their scheduled time because they’d stumbled across some great new material that Peretti wanted to explore. The extra few hours on his feet were worth it in exchange for the validation that came with being told he was good at his chosen career path.

It didn’t stop Ryan from feeling like he was going to pass out standing up, though.

“Hey, Bergara, you doin’ anything tonight?” Steven asked. “Curly, Jen, and I found this great club we’re gonna go to. You in?”

“Nah, man, I’m exhausted,” Ryan said, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder. “I haven’t been sleeping well lately. I think this job is giving me stress nightmares.”

That got a chuckle out of Steven. “That tracks. Get some rest, okay?”

“I’m gonna try to. Night, dude.” He waved goodbye before heading down the road, taking a few corners so he could get to the part of the street that wasn’t blocked off, and then he pulled his phone out.

He was greeted with a couple texts from Shane, but he ignored them in favor of calling an Uber. His bed was calling his name. He could order something, get it delivered, and laze around in his pajamas until he passed out. 

Only when he was finally in the Uber did he check his texts.

_ I’m not going to admit you’re right, because you’re not. _

_ I could very easily prove you wrong right now, but you’re at work so I’m not going to get into it. _

_ Just know that I could. _

_ Hope Peretti goes easy on you. _

Ryan laughed a little to himself and sent the emoji that was rolling its eyes before typing for real.

** _that sounds like you don’t actually have a point so this is still a victory in my books._ **

** _he did, by the way._ **

** _pretty decent day tbh!_ **

** _can’t wait to get in bed and eat and crash_ **

He pulled up Grubhub, scrolling through local options for delivery - there was a burger joint that looked really promising, with fancy burgers served with mac and cheese, onion rings, and bacon on them, and Ryan’s mouth was watering already. He was adding it to his cart when Shane texted back.

_ Take whatever little victories you can, Bergara. You need them. Your arguments are all made of tissue paper. _

_ I’m glad your day went well, enjoy whatever garbage you decide to eat. _

_ The band and I’ll miss you at the bar. _

_ I’ll have someone record us playing our new song for you. _

“Oh,” Ryan said out loud, quiet enough that his driver didn’t take it as an invitation to start a conversation. Suddenly, he was torn; bed sounded so fantastic, but so did seeing the band and Shane and hearing a song that Shane was clearly excited about.

When he got out of the car in front of his apartment building, he checked the time; The Skeptics would be on in a half an hour.

“Am I really about to do this?” he asked himself quietly before closing his eyes and sighing. “Yeah. Yeah I am. Jesus  _ fucking _ christ.”

And with that, he turned to walk down the street to head towards the Innertown.

***

He arrived at the Innertown Pub to a pretty sizeable crowd, and he gently shoved his way past people to get to the bar, where Joyce greeted him with a smile and his favorite beer. “Hey hey, Ryan, good to see you!”

He smiled, even though he was really starting to feel the exhaustion physically, and he plopped down at the first empty stool he found. “You been good?” he asked, fishing his wallet out to pay for his beer now. “‘M not gonna be here long, just came to see the band.”

Joyce took his card and nodded. “You do kinda look like you’re gonna fall asleep right here - please don’t. You’ll fall off the stool and none of us wanna deal with a cracked skull.”

“I won’t, promise.”

Ryan closed his eyes and rubbed at his forehead, taking a few deep breaths to try and rejuvenate himself. It didn’t help - he didn’t really expect it to - and he opened his eyes and took a drink. He’d stay until the new song was over; that was going to be his rule tonight, no matter how badly he wanted to talk to Shane.

A quick glance over towards the stage revealed that TJ and Zack were setting up already, and Brent wasn’t too far behind them.  _ Good. I can sleep soon. _

He jumped out of his skin when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey, hey, it’s just me,” a familiar voice said, barely containing the laugh as they spoke.

Ryan turned and looked up and smiled. “Hi, Shane.”

“I thought you were going to bed.” Shane wasn’t even smiling; he was looking at Ryan closely, expression soft in a way Ryan hadn’t expected. “You  _ should _ be in bed, Ryan, Jesus.”

“I’m not gonna be here long. I just wanted to hear the new song, that’s all. As soon as I do, I’m going home and ordering a disgusting burger and passing the fuck out as soon as I finish it.” He leaned back into Shane’s touch, just a little bit. Shane didn’t move his hand away.

Shane shook his head and huffed. “You’re an idiot. You know that, right?” He looked up at the stage and then back down at Ryan, biting his lip for just a second. “Alright. You promise you’ll go home after you hear our new song?”

“You couldn’t pay me enough to stay past it, man, I need food and sleep.” He took another drink from his beer as if to punctuate all the bad decisions he was making in the moment.

“Okay. If you don’t, I’ll get someone to throw you out. Don’t test me.” That was all Shane said before he left, patting Ryan’s shoulder once before walking off quickly and intently to get to the stage. Ryan watched him go, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was staring; Shane’s jeans were nice, and his button up fit in all the right places. He was only human, after all.

Shane picked up his acoustic guitar and leaned in to talk to the other members of the band - TJ looked confused and swapped out his guitar for the acoustic one he’d stashed away. Ryan couldn’t make out what they were saying, but the discussion was over as quickly as it began.

“Hi, everyone,” Shane said, stepping up to the mic. “We’re the Skeptics, uh, normally I don’t talk to you guys too much before we start playing, but.” Shane ran a hand through his hair. “I have a friend in the audience tonight, and he’s gotta bail early, so we’re switchin’ things up a little bit.”

Ryan turned bright red as Joyce shoved at his arm.

“I wrote this song a couple nights ago, and tonight’s the first time we’re playing it in front of people. It’s called ‘Sweet Disaster,’ and I hope you folks like it.”

TJ took the lead part this time, and he plucked out a little melody before Shane started singing and Mark picked up the bass line. 

_ “ _ _ Some nights feel like every night, this one feels brand new,” _ Shane crooned, eyes meeting Ryan’s through the crowd.  _ “Only got bad things on my mind when I’m with you.” _

Ryan’s stomach did somersaults as Brent picked up a tambourine for the chorus. His hands were shaking a little bit as he took another sip of his beer; Shane looked away, but the eye contact he’d made left an impression.

It was making Ryan think.

He couldn’t look away as the song went on, and his brain was buzzing with all of the possibilities - what could this mean? Ryan knew what he  _ wanted _ it to mean, but that didn’t necessarily mean that’s what Shane had meant for it to say--

Shane looked at him again and his mind went blank. He could only focus on the lyrics coming out of Shane’s mouth.  _ “Tell me that you need me on the floor, passed out in your dirty clothes,” _ he sang, eyes never once looking away from Ryan.  _ “Ask me what the hell I’m looking for like you don’t know.” _

Ryan expected the chorus, but the band let the note hang for an extra second, and Shane sang one more line.

_ “You’re making it so easy to throw myself away.” _

A lot of the people in the crowd were swaying with the rhythm, smiling and enjoying the song for what it was. And it was a good song, one Ryan wished existed in the world so he could listen to it more than just in this moment, but it was strange, seeing all these people enjoying it like it hadn’t just turned Ryan’s world on its head.

It could mean nothing, and Ryan tried to convince himself of that as the band kept playing. There was no reason to get his hopes up. There was no concrete evidence that Shane felt anything towards him, that he wanted them to be anything more than friends. Sure, he knew they were very real  _ friends _ now - Shane calling him out in front of the entire bar was proof of that in the most horrifying and delightful way - but that was all. Just friends.

God, the way Shane looked at him as he sang really made him hope it was more than just friends.

The song ended and people clapped and cheered. Ryan was still a little too dumbstruck to do much more than raise his beer in appreciation; he could tell Shane noticed because he smiled brighter than the sun and nodded in thanks.

“Thank you guys so much.”

Shane and TJ swapped their guitars as Ryan turned back to Joyce, finishing off his beer in one long sip. He put the bottle down, sighed, and stood up. “What the fuck is my life,” he said softly to no one in particular as the Skeptics started their next song.

“Good, I hope,” Joyce said, answering Ryan’s non-question with a smile. “Have a good night, Ryan. Get some rest, you really look like you need it. I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Thanks, Joyce. Have a good one.”

There was a lightness in his gait as he walked home, the exhaustion pushed back and away by the weird new delightful anticipation of the big maybe looming in front of him now. He ordered the burger he’d been thinking about since before Shane’s texts once he was home, showering and changing and then absolutely destroying it the moment it arrived.

As he settled back into bed for the night, he sent one last text.

** _hey. i really liked your new song._ **

Shane’s response was almost instantaneous.

_ Good, I’m very, very glad. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](http://mediumboybergara.tumblr.com/)


	7. week of july 23rd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> greetings and salutations! hope y'all are having a lovely end of the year/holiday season! may the new year bring you endless good things which you no doubt deserve.
> 
> no music this chapter, unfortunately, but next chapter has some banging tunes i promise.
> 
> endless love to [yesi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks) for the beta and the discord for the cheerleading.

All of the good energy on set that had built up for the past few weeks was gone, and it was all crashing down on Ryan’s head.

They were scheduled for another long overnight shoot on location. It was raining - Ryan was soaked through even though he’d worn a rain jacket and his best waterproof boots, and it was cool enough to make him shiver. The director had been ready to snap all day, and any good suggestions Ryan made were shot down with vitriol, even though Ryan had saved the day a week or so ago with creative new ideas and fresh perspective.

So of course, one small mistake was the end of the world.

He hadn’t changed the one setting he was supposed to – it was a human error, and an easy one to make at four in the morning wearing wet clothes and feeling like he was on the verge of freezing to death. He noticed it not a minute into the first take of the scene, and he fixed it after the first cut. One of the actors had flubbed a line anyway, so it wasn’t even like they’d have to color correct the footage in post any more than they normally would.

But Peretti noticed him fiddling with the settings and exploded.

Ryan didn’t like to cry; it was stupid and toxic, but he’d been taught growing up that men didn’t cry over things like this. His dad was a happy crier, so he’d grown up knowing those kinds of tears were healthy, but his dad never really understood angry tears. He was grateful that he’d taught himself to choke it all back until he was alone; crying on set wouldn’t win him any respect points with anyone.

Luckily for him, they wrapped the night at five, and Ryan left as soon as he was done clearing up his gear. He didn’t even stick around to say bye to the crew; they were all varying degrees of miserable, though. They would understand.

As soon as he was back in his apartment, he took the hottest shower he could stand, and he let the water melt the stress away. He cried, but only a little - he refused to let Peretti’s bullshit affect him any more than that. Peretti and this movie weren’t even worth it.

Ryan’s shower lasted as long as the hot water did, and when it ran cool, he got out, pruney and exhausted and ready to sleep for a full day. He toweled off, put on his comfiest pajama pants, and headed directly to bed.

He grabbed his phone to set an alarm so he wouldn’t _really_ sleep the entire day away; Andrew, Devon, and Jen had all texted him to make sure he was okay after Peretti’s very public explosion on set. He responded to each of them quickly – “yes, I’m fine.” “Just over this job already.” “I’m good, I promise, thanks.” – before rolling onto his side and closing his eyes.

It felt like the moment he closed his eyes, his phone was vibrating again, and he groaned, flopping back over and fumbling for it without looking. When he opened his eyes, he was surprised to see the mid-morning sun streaming in through the blinds – apparently he’d slept, and he’d slept solidly.

His phone vibrated in his hand again, drawing his attention to whoever was texting him – there were 15 missed messages waiting for some kind of response.

_Good morning did you know a group of owls is called a parliament?_

_Now you do. There’s your daily #OwlFact._

_Anyway, good morning, I hope work went well last night._

_You’re probably still sleeping I’m just now realizing._

_I really hope these don’t wake you up, because then I’d feel like a real asshole._

_The best part about getting an unexpected half day of work is that you get a whole afternoon that you can use for various fun activities!_

_The worst part is the fact that you get paid way less!_

_Ryan, wake up._

_Ryan._

_Ryannnnnnnnnnnnn._

_Come get coffee with me._

_Everyone else is at work._

_Not that you’re a last resort, because you’re not._

_Seriously, though. Coffee? On me? You can bitch about your director and use film terms I don’t understand and I’ll listen._

_You could even talk sports and I’d pretend to care._

Ryan laughed out loud at the last one, and he sat up in bed. Coffee with Shane sounded nice - _those_ texts were only ten minutes old. If he responded quickly, the offer might still stand.

** _let’s meet at that place we were at last time._ **

** _i’ll tell you all about the first televised nba draft - people think there was a big corporate conspiracy to give the knicks the first overall pick._ **

After that, Ryan sat up and stretched, shoulders popping as he did. His shower last night worked wonders to get the tension out of his muscles and his head felt clearer than it had in a few days. He ran one hand through his hair, trying to flatten out the curls, and stood up to grab some jeans and a t-shirt. His phone pinged while he was debating what Jordans to wear with his favorite Lakers shirt, and he sat down and flopped back on his bed to see if Shane had answered.

_I take it back, I don’t think I could listen to you talk sports._

_I’ll meet you there, though. If you show up first grab us a table?_

** _too late i already put my lakers shirt on_ **

** _you’re getting sports ryan™_ **

** _see you there champ_ **

He eventually went with his most basic pair of Jordans – they went with everything and they were comfortable, and it wasn’t like Shane would notice or care anyway. He wasn’t going to allow himself to stress about going out for coffee with his friend – today was a day meant for relaxing and decompressing from a long, hard night of work.

He kept repeating that to himself in his head like a mantra as he headed back to that little coffee shop that he’d stumbled across by accident. The only reason he even knew where it was was because he’d posted a picture of the cafe on instagram and tagged the location; he thanked past Ryan for making his life a little easier.

The coffee shop was blessedly empty when he arrived – he didn’t really feel up to loitering around waiting for a table while hoping he wouldn’t get kicked out. He bought himself a brownie and grabbed a table near the back – just in case a crowd of people showed up. He settled in to wait, pulling out his phone and texting his little brother; they were in the middle of planning a welcome home taco truck tour through Los Angeles when Shane sat down in front of Ryan, placing an iced coffee down next to his plate.

“I didn’t put any sugar or anything in this, just as a heads up.”

“Hi to you too, man.” Ryan couldn’t help his huge smile as he took a sip.

Shane brushed his hair back – it was shorter than it was the last time they’d seen each other, and it looked incredible. He looked more refined, even though he was sitting across from Ryan in a dorky t-shirt that said Chicago on it. “Hi,” he finally said with a soft grin. “Thanks for deciding to keep me company so I don’t go insane.”

“Why would you be going insane? You have a day off, that’s a good thing.”

“I decided to try cold brew this morning because I was substitute teaching for a summer school program. I got let go early because they didn’t need me. My body’s not used to this much caffeine. Hence the… remarkable amount of pointless texts you received this morning. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Ryan watched Shane’s fingertips drum against the tabletop, seemingly without him knowing. He’d been there before.

“It’s fine! It was nice to wake up to that and not a bunch of texts from my coworkers that made me think too hard about last night.” He shrugged. “So. Like I said earlier. The first time they televised the NBA Draft—”

“No no no,” Shane said, cutting him off. “No, what happened last night?” He picked up his tea and just held it, gazing at Ryan; even without words, Ryan knew Shane wouldn’t press too hard if he told him to back off. He knew he could avoid an unpleasant conversation if he just said he didn’t want to talk about it.

“I made a little mistake and, uh. Peretti kinda blew up at me in front of everyone. It sucked, it was like four in the morning, it was raining and I was cold.” He took a sip of his iced coffee just so he could stop talking. He didn’t need to dwell on how horrible he’d felt in the moment, or how bad it made him feel about his work. “Nothin’ kills your confidence like your boss telling you you’re shitty.”

Shane’s frown was instantaneous, and he set his tea back on the table before reaching out to gently touch Ryan’s forearm. “Hey,” he said in that soft voice Ryan had only ever heard when it was just them. “You’re not shitty. You graduated, didn’t you? That means you have a portfolio of stuff that’s good. And it was clearly good enough to get you this job. Which is a _big_ job – you told me that one of the first few times we really talked.” Shane’s thumb moved over Ryan’s wrist a few times, and the action felt intimate in a way they hadn’t broached quite yet. _“You_ know how good you are behind a camera. He does too. Last night he was just being a fucking dick.”

Ryan looked up from where Shane’s pale skin was brushing against his own, and he smiled; Shane smiled right back at him.

“That was the worst ending to a really sweet pep talk I’ve ever heard.”

“I had to make it less emotional somehow – I didn’t want you to think I’m goin’ soft on you, Bergara.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been soft for me since the day we met.”

Shane didn’t deny that, and a small part of Ryan’s brain vibrated at the prospect of that being more true than either of them had realized. It felt strange to be dancing around something that felt so big and immediate and constant. Their friendship was easy, and Shane understood Ryan better than a lot of people had, even after years of experience. It made sense – to Ryan, at least – that they’d gravitate towards each other, towards falling into being something _more._ It seemed inevitable.

It was just that what they had, delicate and fragile but stable and perfect and so, so _good,_ wasn’t worth sacrificing for anything less than a sure thing.

It felt cowardly to admit to himself he’d been thinking that way. Shane’s eyes were always gentle, and his tone was never harsh, and there was nothing to hint that Shane would hate him if he dared to voice these less-than-platonic thoughts. There was _far_ more evidence to suggest that Shane _wanted_ him to confess that maybe they should do something about the way they felt about each other. 

But it still wasn’t a sure thing, and without that guarantee, Ryan wouldn’t lay it all on the line. His bravery only extended so far.

He stirred his iced coffee with his straw, doing his best to pull himself out of his own head. “I need to stop thinking, man. The moment I let my brain have a little too much space I just… spiral.”

Shane nodded. “Yeah, I get that. You can tell me about the, uh, the draft thing if you want. If that’d help.”

Ryan shook his head, chuckling a little. “I won’t bore you, man. I could go off about it for, like, hours. There’s so much to it. Like, the president of Madison Square Garden said—” He cut himself off. “See? No. I’ll save that story for, like, never. Or the next time I get really drunk and decide you gotta know about how fuckin’ weird basketball can get.” He ran a hand through his hair, wishing he’d worn a hat or something to fiddle with. “What about the band? I didn’t know that you were actually, like, actively writing stuff for them still. Until the last show, I mean.”

“Oh, I’m writing all the time,” Shane said easily, wrapping both of his hands around his mug of tea and drumming them gently against the ceramic. “That song came together during a rehearsal actually. I played it once for the guys and then they all kinda figured out what they needed to do and bam, it was ready for a show. I wish all the songs we wrote were that easy.”

Leaning forward, Ryan rested his chin on his hand. “I really don’t wanna sound like I’m interviewing you, but what’s your whole process like?”

Shane hummed and looked up, brow furrowing as he stared off in silence for a few moments. Ryan waited patiently, stirring his iced coffee with his free hand as he waited for Shane’s answer.

“Well. There’s a new song I think we’re gonna play next weekend,” he said softly, like it was some big secret conspiracy that he shouldn’t really be telling Ryan. “And I, uh, I wrote it a couple of months ago? But I didn’t have much beyond a really, really sad bridge and a really happy chorus. And you can’t have a really sad bridge and a happy chorus, they don’t mesh. And also you can’t just have a bridge and a chorus and call it a song. So I brought it up to the guys, and Zack actually gave me the idea for the second verse.”

Ryan’s eyebrows shot up. “I was given the impression you were the sole songwriter of the group. That’s cool, that the other guys write too.”

“Mm, they do. Not often. But that’s by choice, I’m not… ruling the group with an iron fist or anything. TJ and Zack both have songs they wrote but they’re not quite ready to perform them just yet.” Shane shrugged. “They’re really good at fixing what I can’t and pointing out options I don’t see, y’know? Different perspectives.”

“Yeah, those are always useful.”

“So they help with the blocks like that. The song, though – the song still needed a first verse. Those are kind of important.” Shane was smiling again, but this one was shy. This one was saying so much, but Ryan couldn’t quite understand the language it was speaking yet. “I had to wait. I had to find inspiration in the world around me, which I’ve never really been great at. But… something happened last week and made me realize what I had to write. I changed up the chorus too, fixed a few things, and we rehearsed the full song the next day. I think it’s our best song yet.”

That sentence shouldn’t have thrilled Ryan as much as it did, but he smiled like a starstruck fool anyway. “Holy shit, that’s a big deal, ‘cause all your songs so far have been great.”

“Why thank you! It’s always nice to hear from a fan.” Shane leaned back in his chair and folded his arms behind his head, and Ryan couldn’t help but wheeze.

“Shut up, Shane.”

Shane laughed, soft and low and warm, and Ryan felt his stomach do a pleased flip; he’d done that. He’d made Shane laugh like that with that fond look on his face. 

_Oh no._

“Anyway. That’s what writing’s like for me. And I hope that you’ll come see us next weekend so you can hear it. I’m pretty sure the only other person who cares about our music at all is my mom, so. It’ll be fun to have some support in the crowd.”

“Okay, no, plenty of people at that bar care about your music. I can name, like, at least three employees off the top of my head.”

Shane immediately waved off that notion. “They don’t count, they’re held hostage by capitalism during our sets. They _have_ to listen to us.”

Ryan doubled over, laughing soundlessly, and Shane laughed with him. They were probably making fools out of themselves, but for the first time, Ryan didn’t care or feel worried about it in the slightest.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Ryan said, trying to catch his breath as he calmed down. “You’re fucking ridiculous, dude, I swear to god.”

“You say that like you don’t believe in ghosts. How am _I_ the ridiculous one here?”

Ryan gave Shane a look. “Oh, you wanna go there right now?”

Shane finished off the rest of his tea and forcefully put his mug on the table. “No.”

“That’s what I—”

Shane stood up and Ryan was reminded, yet again, that Shane was tall and particularly good at _looming_ when he wanted to be. “I’m hungry, it’s lunchtime. Finish your coffee, let’s go get pizza and I’ll prove to you why you’re wrong about ghosts and ghouls and demons.”

Ryan blinked up at him, shocked, but Shane didn’t look like he was kidding. He stood there, eyebrows raised, nodding his head towards Ryan’s cup. Ryan finished off the last of it until there was nothing but ice, and then Shane grabbed his mug. He headed towards the exit and the buckets for used dishes, and Ryan just trailed behind him.

Shane turned back to Ryan with a smirk as he opened the door to head out once their cups were safely stowed away for the staff. “I’m also gonna show you why the world’s wrong about Chicago style pizza. I hope you’re ready for that.”

He couldn’t help but laugh a little as he followed Shane out the door, slipping on his sunglasses and putting on a tough facade to hide how nervous and excited he really was. “Bring it on, man, let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next week is gonna be a good one if only because i'm about to shoehorn my love of joe iconis into this story.
> 
> come talk on [tumblr](http://mediumboybergara.tumblr.com/)
> 
> hopefully the next thing i post is a short new year's eve themed one shot set in this universe with two characters who haven't been introduced yet! keep your eyes peeled, if it gets up i'll also link it next week!
> 
> byeeeeee


	8. week of july 30th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's here! finally! i'm posting early because tomorrow i'm gonna be busy literally all day and i don't wanna delay this - this is one of my favorite chapters and the chapter with the most [banging soundtrack yet.](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5iTeDMzAB1aYhhbXJ22Phf?si=ObPX79jBRm-c1MIAjZt1SQ) it's key to this chapter, so please listen to all three songs only as they come up in the fic. god i'm so stoked for y'all to read this.
> 
> thank you to yesi for the beta yet again and also for the BEST reaction when she read this for the first time.
> 
> no more delaying. enjoy!

The worst part of Shane teasing a new song the way he had over coffee was the _anticipation_ of it all. Ryan busied himself with being almost aggressively social – every day after work, he was going out for dinner with someone. Andrew and Steven had dragged him on an adventure through the best diners Chicago had to offer according to Yelp, and that night they ate so much bacon it was almost too much. He and Devon ordered a whole smorgasbord of different food and ate it on her living room floor, drinking cheap champagne to feel a little fancier. He, Jen, and Curly located an arcade that was open late, and they played games until they got kicked out and roamed the city looking for cheap food.

It wasn’t a bad week by any means – it was honestly probably the best week Ryan had had since filming started – but it crawled by _so_ slowly.

No one caught on, though. Ryan wasn’t miserable, or visibly antsy, or any kind of off or weird that hinted at his eagerness for the week to be over. Sure, he may have had a mental countdown of hours until he’d get to the Innertown on Friday night, but he also threw himself all in on having fun with his friends and enjoying some time with them away from the set.

And no one beyond Jen knew about his tentative, fragile thing with Shane. Even Curly, with his incessant teasing the one night they’d all gone to the Innertown together, dropped it after the fact. He wasn’t hiding it, necessarily – he just didn’t want to share anything prematurely.

He really, really wanted to do this thing right - if they did it at all.

They wrapped early on Friday afternoon, which was the opposite of what Ryan wanted. Jen was trying to recruit as many people as she could to go to this Mexican place she’d found “with cheap margs and insanely good tamales.” She’d branched out from their usual little squad of six, and she’d even invited some college friends along.

“I’m telling you all this in advance so you can make an informed decision about whether or not you wanna join,” she told Ryan as he packed up his bag. 

“I appreciate the hell out of that,” he said, smiling at her as he stood up and shrugged. “I think I’m gonna have to pass, though. That’s a lot to handle after this week.” It wasn’t a lie; being social on that level with that much alcohol didn’t sound like something he’d be okay with, even if he didn’t have plans with himself.

“I feel that.” Jen held out her fist for a fist bump, and Ryan did after slinging his bag onto his shoulder. “Hey, at least have fun tonight? Go see your boy at the bar.”

Instead of rising to her teasing like he knew she wanted him to, he bit his lip like he was considering it. “Y’know what? Maybe I will.”

“No denial? You’ve grown so much!”

Ryan laughed as he started heading off, waving once. “Have a good night, Jen!”

“You too, Ry!”

The ride back to his place was treacherous: if he thought too much in the silence, he’d spiral immediately into an anxiety pit about the night ahead of him. He had nothing to really be anxious about; he and Shane talked enough that they were friends, and even this crush-or-whatever shouldn’t affect that fact. He wasn’t nervous around Shane once he actually sat down with him; why would he be nervous about watching him perform? _He_ wasn’t the one onstage.

But something about the anticipation for the new song, the way Shane had looked at him while he talked about it, the way Shane texted him to make sure he’d be there… All of that combined had really raised the stakes on this otherwise unremarkable evening.

When he arrived at his apartment, the nerves had fully set in, and he had hours before he had anywhere to be.

He decided to approach things methodically in an attempt to calm his racing thoughts: first, he showered. The hot water helped him feel less tense physically, and he did his best to regulate his breathing, hoping everything else would calm down along with his heart. It was a solid start, and once he let the steam dissipate from the bathroom, he started step two.

Working through a checklist in his mind to get dressed and ready to go out helped more than he actually thought it would. By the time he’d done his hair and picked out an outfit, he felt a little more centered and a lot _less_ like he was going to vomit or vibrate out of his own skin. He’d opted to go without shaving or contacts, and his glasses and the bit of scruff on his jaw felt like enough to hide his nerves from outside parties. If anything, it would help him feign confidence as best he could.

He sent a quick selfie to Jen – mostly to let her know that he wasn’t sitting around in his pajamas eating Chipotle – and then checked the time. It was still a little early, but he could head down to the bar and talk to Joyce and Kelsey a bit before the show started.

** _heading down to the bar now_ **

** _gonna hear this new song you keep saying is your best i guess_ **

_Oh, you’re in for a treat tonight._

_I’ll see you after?_

** _you know it._ **

He ended up walking to the Innertown way too quickly, and the bar was practically empty when he stepped inside. Joyce waved him over and he immediately got settled in his usual spot.

“Hey there, Ry, you’re here way early. Eager for tonight?”

“Yeah, I guess you could say that,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Shane’s been telling me that tonight’s gonna be a good night.”

Joyce looked so smug. “I knew you and him hit it off when y’all met.” She busied herself with grabbing Ryan’s normal beer while Ryan covered his eyes with his hands and groaned. “Don’t worry, no one here’s noticed but me. And I’m good at keepin’ secrets.”

“We’re not a thing, we just— we’ve just started hanging out and stuff. He’s cool. That’s all.” Ryan moved his hands away from his face and settled his glasses back on his nose.

“Hey, I just said y’all hit it off. That doesn’t mean anything more than friendship unless you think it does.” Her look was pointed, and Ryan realized he’d walked into that. _Fuck._

“Oh god.”

“Like I said, Ry. I’m good at keepin’ secrets.” She didn’t have anyone else to take care of, so she stepped back to twist her locs up into an updo that looked more complicated than it seemed. “I’ll drop it, don’t worry. It’s just not every day I see a new guy turn into a regular turn into our band’s new muse.”

“I’m not his _muse,_ oh my god, _please_ stop talking.”

“I’m just sayin’! It’s nice. It’s sweet. It’s the kinda cheesy shit I’d expect from a romcom.”

“I’m ignoring you now.” He took a long drink from his beer to punctuate his point, and Joyce laughed.

“Okay, hon, whatever you say.”

Ryan sat alone at the bar for a few more minutes before the regular evening crowd started to trickle in. He felt a little weird, sitting there alone and keeping to himself, but he had his phone out to distract himself. Jen kept sending him horrible candids of Andrew and Steven and Curly, and he texted back commentary while he waited for the Skeptics to start playing.

He was working on finishing his second beer when he heard Brent hit the snare a few times. Looking over, he saw the rest of the band ready to go – and Shane, looking more fantastic than he ever had. He was wearing glasses and a long-sleeved button up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and Ryan felt breathless for a moment.

“Hey everybody, we’re the Skeptics,” Shane said into the mic, looking out into the crowd and finding Ryan quickly. He winked at him and Ryan smiled back, blushing just a little bit. “Tonight’s a little different than usual for us, so I’m gonna force you all to listen to me talk before you listen to me sing. I’ll try and make this as painless as possible, folks.”

A chuckle rippled through the crowd, and that made Shane smile more. “Alright, so tonight we’re playing a lot of old stuff we haven’t played in a really long time.”

Joyce cheered from where she was standing at the bar and Ryan jumped a bit. Shane pointed at her as she laughed. “Yeah, that’s the spirit!” he said. “I’m glad someone’s excited. Anyway, we’re playing some real old stuff and then we’re gonna play a new song for you guys. I think it’s the best song I’ve ever written.”

TJ and Zack nodded, and Brent yelled something affirmative from behind the kit. “So, uh, enjoy. This first song requires a little extra help, so if Daysha and Kelsey can come up here…”

It was then that Ryan noticed the extra microphone crammed into the corner by Mark, and Kelsey and another server Ryan recognized, but didn’t know – Daysha, he assumed - set up behind it. Kelsey pulled her hair up and back, and Daysha tossed her long curls over her shoulder.

The song was unlike anything else the Skeptics had ever played before while Ryan was in attendance. The song started with just a piano. TJ played a few independent riffs as Shane started singing, and it felt… soulful and rich in a way a lot of the songs they’d performed before hadn’t. By the time the chorus rolled around, Ryan was nodding his head along to the beat, and even Joyce was dancing behind the bar as she poured drinks. 

When Kelsey and Daysha joined in as backing vocals, Joyce sang along too, and cheers erupted around the bar. For a small crowd, they were loud, and Ryan watched Shane grin as he kept singing, putting his whole heart into the performance.

The band sounded incredible. The song, the way the music built and soared… it was so far from what Ryan would expect from a little local band in a dive bar. The Skeptics kept blowing him away even when he thought he was done with all the surprises. He kind of liked being proved wrong, though.

The song ended and the applause was intense. Daysha and Kelsey got back to work, laughing and chatting with their tables, and the band basked in the appreciation until it faded away. Shane looked a little overwhelmed but so deeply and genuinely happy. 

It was a good look on him.

Once the applause had fully died down, they launched into their next song without any preamble. It wasn’t the same kind of soulful jam, but it was a well-crafted rock song, even if the chorus was something about a shoebox.

Ryan wasn’t going to question Shane’s artistic choices.

Joyce brought him over another beer and cleared away his empty one. “You enjoyin’ your night?” she asked, and Ryan nodded enthusiastically.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect… this.” He waved his hand towards the band, towards the enthusiastic crowd. “It’s… honestly kind of amazing.”

“I haven’t heard that song in _ages,”_ she admitted, “and it was always my favorite.”

“I don’t blame you. I don’t know how whatever song they’re saving for last could top that, that’s… that’s another level of songwriting.” Ryan handed her some cash to pay for his beers and a hefty tip, as he always did. “How have they not left Chicago yet?”

“We don’t exactly attract talent scouts and record execs and that kinda shit here. And I know the guys wish the band was their only job, but I dunno if they’re mentally ready for touring. I know TJ’s got a girlfriend, and Zack’s got a ton of friends in the area. You know what it’s like, leavin’ home for a while.”

Ryan thought about how badly he missed his mom and dad, how he really wished he could take the dogs for a walk with his little brother and give him hell. “Yeah. I get it.”

Joyce didn’t mean to, he knew, but she had brought his imminent departure back into the forefront of his mind. Production had been delayed, sure, and he had a month or so left that he didn’t have when he first arrived in Chicago, but now there was so much more at stake. When he arrived here, he’d been counting down the days until he could leave and head back to Los Angeles. Now, he was dreading saying goodbye to Jen, to Joyce, to Devon and Kelsey and TJ and Zack and Brent and Mark and _Shane._

It hurt to think about. He didn’t want to spiral tonight, and he shoved that thought into a box in the back corner of his mind to deal with later - tonight, he was determined to live in the moment and enjoy life as it happened instead of mourning the loss of something he hadn’t even lost yet.

He was almost done with his last beer when Shane stepped up to the mic to speak. “Alright, enough waiting. Here’s that song. The new one that’s our best. It’s also gonna be our last one tonight, so thank you for being so amazing.”

Surprisingly, the song was bouncy and poppy. Ryan nodded along, tapping his foot against the base of his stool. The melody was floaty; it was _gorgeous_ and Ryan immediately understood why Shane thought this was their best song yet.

_“Well I will call you darling and everything will be okay, ‘cause I know that I am yours and you are mine, doesn’t matter anyway.”_

Ryan blinked a few times. This was… a love song. This was a love song that Shane had admitted to finishing less than a month ago.

The pile of mostly-circumstantial evidence in his brain grew, and toppled over, and every single piece was displayed in front of him, asking him to deny what was becoming more and more difficult to brush off. He believed so strongly in some things with far less to back them up.

_“Put your hand in mind, you know that I want to be with you all the time,” _Shane sang, and Ryan looked up at him. They made eye contact, and Shane didn’t look away. _“You know that I won’t stop until I make you mine, you know that I won’t stop until I make you mine.”_

His heart felt like it was going to beat right out of his chest. He could have dismissed this as just a coincidence, as wishful thinking, if there hadn’t been everything else that had happened between them. The conversations, the flirting, the winks from across crowded rooms, the little touches and dumb jokes and texts. All of the signs pointed at something bigger. 

He watched the Skeptics play a song that he was at least fifty percent sure was written in part for him, and he felt like he was floating above his body. He couldn’t tell what emotions exactly he was experiencing at the moment; everything felt loud and overwhelming and kind of beautiful, and as the last chorus swelled, Ryan stood up and finished his beer. He placed it down as the last few piano notes faded out and the crowd cheered loudly, and as the band accepted the applause and started packing up, he tried to push through the crowd to get to Shane.

He was setting his guitar case by the back door that led to the alley where they parked their van when Ryan finally got through the large group of people that had gathered near the stage. “Shane.”

Shane looked like a deer in headlights when he looked up. “Ryan.” 

The air between them was heavy and Ryan could tell things were about to change for them forever. They were balancing on the edge of a knife, and they couldn’t keep it up for long. The conversation they’d have tonight would push them, and he wasn’t sure which side they’d topple over.

“Can we talk? Privately?”

Shane blinked and took a second to process what Ryan had said before he nodded. “Uh— yeah. Yeah, we can. C’mon.” Shane pushed the door open and ushered him outside, using a brick to prop it open just enough that they wouldn’t be locked out. 

Ryan watched as Shane went to lean against the van, trying and failing to look casual. “What’s on your mind, man?” he asked, voice tense.

“Was… that song. That song that you just played.” Ryan pointed back towards the bar as if Shane needed a reminder of what he was talking about. “Was that… what’s going on here, man? What’s this?” His motions between them were frantic, and his voice was a lot less composed than he wanted it to be.

Shane stood up straight and swallowed. “Yeah. The… the parts I talked about writing recently were about you. The song is _yours,_ Ryan. I’ve… I thought it was pretty obvious. I thought _I_ was pretty obvious. With how I was feeling.”

Ryan felt his heart start hammering against his ribcage. “And how’s that?”

Stepping forward, Shane reached out slowly and put a hand on Ryan’s waist, his thumb brushing over the black and white striped fabric of his shirt so reverently. He looked up at the dark sky, like looking at Ryan this close would be too much. The nearby streetlights reflected off his glasses and Ryan was mesmerized. “I…” Shane’s voice trailed off and he looked back down at Ryan, who was gazing up at him expectantly. “Ryan, I… I’m not good at this,” he admitted softly, using his free hand to brush his hair back from his face. “Talking about feelings is… It’s not something I’ve ever had to do this… openly. It’s why I write music, because at least then it’s not as direct, it’s… there’s metaphors and a veil of ambiguity. But doing it like _this_ takes all that away, so— forgive me if this sucks.”

Ryan kept watching him, noticing the way his jaw clenched and the way he swallowed and the way his eyes kept darting away from Ryan’s. “Okay,” he said softly. He didn’t know how else to respond, and Shane looked back at him.

“Okay.” The word seemed to help him steel himself to try again. “I think about you way more often than I should. I’ve written— there are more songs about you that we just haven’t finished yet. When I look out in the crowd and see you, I…” Shane stopped and cleared his throat. His eyes flicked down to Ryan’s mouth and back up again to meet his eyes. 

There was a long, silent moment between them. Ryan didn’t dare speak; Shane’s eyes flicked down again once before he spoke. “I’m going to do something. You’re more than welcome to stop me if you don’t want me to do it.” He licked his lips and took a deep breath and started leaning down and in.

It took a second for the actions to register in Ryan’s brain, and then he was leaning up and meeting Shane halfway.

The hand on Ryan’s waist gripped him a little tighter, pulling him just that much closer, and Ryan’s arms reached up to wrap around Shane’s neck; he shifted to his tiptoes so that Shane wouldn’t have to be quite so hunched over, Ryan’s fingers threading through the hair at the back of Shane’s head. It was nothing more than a soft, chaste kiss at first; it was Shane who brought his hand up to Ryan’s face, shifting him slightly, fixing the angle and allowing the kiss to deepen. Their lips moved effortlessly against each other, gentle and slowly exploring; Ryan darted his tongue out to brush at Shane’s bottom lip, which made Shane’s breath hitch. Ryan felt smug, and he pressed up to kiss him harder— until Shane pulled back.

He looked wrecked, even though what they’d done was relatively tame. Even in the dim light outside the bar, Ryan could tell Shane’s pupils were huge, and his lips were a tiny bit redder from their kiss. “To clarify, this is okay? What’s happening here. The kissing.”

Ryan rolled his eyes and pulled Shane back into a kiss, whispering “shut up, Shane,” against his lips before closing the distance between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment telling me what you think! also come say hi on [tumblr](http://mediumboybergara.tumblr.com/) or whatever!
> 
> see you next week!


	9. night of august 4th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello all! sorry for the late update; life has been fighting me tooth and nail lately and i've kinda just. fallen off the face of the earth. i'm trying really hard to get back up on my feet, but patience is appreciated as i struggle to find a balance with everything.
> 
> no music this week, but a pretty solid chapter, i think!
> 
> this is unbeta-ed so if you see any errors shoot me a message on discord @ mothman's wife#2793 so i can fix it real quick. i think we're good though.
> 
> enjoy!

First dates were always a terrible, nerve-wracking experience that Ryan was never eager to repeat. He could count on one hand the ones he’d been on – he preferred the kind of dating where it wasn’t so structured, the kind where it was a lot of hanging out together that turned into kissing sometimes and a discussion about labeling it somehow after a little while. Dates came with pressure, especially at the start; he had to look good, presumably eat in front of someone without being disgusting – he felt like he couldn’t be too loud or dorky, and he ended up holding himself back in some capacity that made him feel bad about himself.

They sucked, but Ryan was about to go on one anyway.

To make matters worse, Shane had told him absolutely nothing beyond “don’t stress. Dress comfortably. I’ll see you at seven.”

Dressing casually, Ryan could handle. Not stressing was another story entirely.

He Facetimed Jen, figuring she could hype him up and help him get rid of his nerves. “How do I look?”

“I’m gay as fuck but you look really hot, dude,” she said, adjusting her hat as she leaned closer to her phone. “Like, seriously, Ry. You’re cute, he’s _clearly_ interested, you’ve hung out with him before, just _relax.”_

“But I _can’t_ relax ‘cause I don’t know what we’re _doing!”_ Ryan went to run a hand through his hair and stopped. He didn’t want to ruin his hard work to get it _just so._ Instead, he ran that hand down his face and groaned as dramatically as he could muster.

“It’s gonna be cute and fun and thoughtful, guaranteed. This guy wrote _songs_ for you, Bergara.” Jen huffed, and even though her face was blurry, Ryan could see the frustration in her expression. “Just chill. You literally have _no reason_ to be nervous.”

Ryan opened his mouth to fight her on that when someone buzzed him from downstairs. “Shit, that’s him, gotta go.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

He laughed as he hung up on Jen and headed over to unlock the door downstairs; it would be another minute before Shane was at his door, and he took that time to center himself. He took a few deep breaths and focused on what he knew for sure: Shane was interested. Shane was a dork. Shane was his friend, first and foremost. He hadn’t held back on Shane at any point before this, and Shane had still kissed him and asked him on a date. There was no legitimate reason to be this anxious, and he knew that. Making his brain believe that was the hard part.

There was a rhythmic knock on the door – the pattern of the opening notes of Ryan’s song – and Ryan took one more quiet moment to brace himself.

He opened the door and smiled the moment he saw Shane’s face.

Even though this had been Shane’s idea, he looked almost surprised to see him - his smile was soft and unsure, and Ryan wanted to kiss him for it. He didn’t, for fear of frying Shane’s brain, but it was a close thing. “Hi,” he said, voice gentle and pitched low and so, so perfect in every way. “You look… really, really good.”

Ryan blushed, and Shane looked all too delighted at that. “Thanks,” he said, shrinking in on himself a bit. “You, uh, you said dress casual, so I did. I hope this wasn’t, like, too casual. I feel like our definitions of casual are wildly different. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you in regular jeans – maybe, like, once at a show. But that’s it.” He paused for a moment. “I’m rambling.”

“It’s okay.” Shane chuckled softly to himself, which only made Ryan blush more. One of Shane’s hands reached out, pausing for a moment before it settled on Ryan’s forearm; the touch grounded him in reality and Ryan let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “You really do look good.” His gaze traveled down Ryan’s body and it was so intense he could feel it like a physical thing. “Purple’s a good color for you.”

Ryan’s face was on fire and Shane cleared his throat. “Uh. Anyway. We should, um, probably head out. Our plans are kind of time sensitive.” He rubbed at the back of his neck with his right hand, and his left hand let go of Ryan’s forearm. “So. You ready?”

Patting his pockets to make sure he had all the essentials, Ryan nodded. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

He could only keep his mouth shut until they were halfway down his street, walking towards downtown and staying close enough together that their hands would brush occasionally. “Are you ever gonna tell me what we’re doing tonight?” he asked, glancing over at Shane with an eyebrow raised. “Or am I gonna have to keep guessing until we’re actually there?”

“I suppose you’ve been patient enough,” Shane said, tone light and teasing as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his chinos. “I thought I’d go traditional – dinner and a movie, very classic – but put a little Madej and Bergara twist on it. We’re starting with the movie, just because I know you’ll probably have to be in bed at a reasonable time – you’ve gotta be on location tomorrow, right?”

Ryan nodded; his chest felt warm and light and all of the self-imposed pressure for tonight to be perfect melted away so quickly. “Yeah. I thought I was gonna have to ditch early ‘cause of that.”

“Hey, you can bail whenever you need to. I won’t think it’s ‘cause you hated my _brilliant_ date idea.” His tone was teasing but sincere, and Ryan appreciated that in ways he couldn’t express. Shane was so consistently considerate in ways that people didn’t often think to be. It was like Shane knew what Ryan was feeling before he even felt it and knew exactly how to assuage that anxiety. And it didn’t really feel like it made sense – Shane had told him about how being open about emotions off of a stage was difficult beyond belief for him, yet he knew exactly how to deal with Ryan and his cranked-up feelings all the time.

They made a great team because of it, and Ryan hoped this night went well – there were two million reasons he could think of, but the biggest one was not wanting to lose Shane as a friend.

“Are you gonna tell me what we’re seeing?” He flexed his hand a bit and stuffed his hand in his pocket so it wouldn’t keep being dangerously close to Shane’s. “Is tonight one big, weird guessing game or can you fill me in on stuff?”

Shane shrugged. “How do I know you’re not gonna judge my plebeian taste in cinema?”

“My favorite movie is fucking Paddington, dude, I’m not gonna judge.”

Shane laughed out loud, throwing his head back as he did. “Mission Impossible. The new one. I’ve heard some good things about it – and I mean, Tom Cruise.”

Ryan nodded. “I love Tom Cruise. That dude is so fucking weird.”

“Have you seen the video of him getting pranked on the red carpet?” It was clear Shane was holding back a laugh as he spoke, and he stopped and stepped to the side of the sidewalk so he could pull his phone out of his back pocket, pulling the video up. “Please tell me you have.”

Ryan nodded enthusiastically but stepped a bit closer, leaning over Shane’s phone to watch as Shane hit play on it anyway. They stood on the sidewalk, chuckling over a video that was over a decade old, and Ryan felt totally at peace with where his life had taken him.

The video finished and they were still standing there, laughing, but Shane was still very conscious of the time crunch ahead of them.

“C’mon,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket and grabbing Ryan’s wrist loosely. “Let’s go, we need to get popcorn before the movie starts.”

Ryan followed, fully aware that he could break Shane’s grip on his wrist with barely any effort.

When he did, it was to slip his hand into Shane’s, lacing their fingers together.

Shane’s smile was brighter than the sunset behind them.

***

“I can’t believe you did the same shit – I thought I was some genius for coming up with that!”

“I mean, you were. It’s a great idea, and it meant free popcorn. I’ve never met another kernelhead I’d consider on my level.”

Shane laughed out loud, squeezing Ryan’s hand in his as he did. They had only stopped holding hands to eat popcorn during the movie – something they both regarded as very serious business, Ryan was pleased to discover – and then to eat dinner at a tiny little place that was mostly empty. All of the wait staff knew Shane by name, and they all seemed thrilled to meet Ryan – it was a good kind of disorienting. The restaurant was cozy and welcoming, and the little booth by the window they scored was private enough that they managed to have good conversations; Ryan learned Shane had once had a pet parrot he loved dearly and his family was over in Schaumburg, and Shane learned that Ryan grew up in Escondido, and that his little brother was arguably his favorite person on the planet even if he was a little shit. They talked about their families and life before they met, and the conversation continued even as they left the restaurant and headed to a destination that only Shane knew.

Their conversation had drifted and ended up someplace deeper than Ryan normally liked for a first date situation, but it felt so natural to discuss things like that with Shane. It felt like there was no pressure, which made Ryan _want_ to open up to him about stuff he generally kept to himself.

“Yeah, I guess my end goal is… be happy and have a family and direct a couple movies that people really love.” Ryan shoved his free hand in his front pocket and shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t need awards or any kind of… big validation like that. I just wanna make something I’m proud of that has an effect on people that aren’t me.”

Shane’s gaze was soft and tentative as he looked down at Ryan, tugging him closer with the hand he was holding. “And the family part?”

Ryan blushed. “Family’s important to me. A wife or a husband, a dog or two, kids, if that’s something my partner wants. That kinda stuff is more ambiguous, ‘cause so much of it depends on the person I find, y’know?”

Nodding, Shane ran his thumb over Ryan’s knuckles. “Yeah, I get it. Makes sense.”

They kept walking in silence, past the glittering marquees of the theatres in the theatre district. Ryan had no idea where they were going, but they stayed close together, slipping past couples darting into lobbies with tickets in hand. It was nice, seeing a side of Chicago he hadn’t before, and it was made better knowing who he was sharing it with.

“What about you?” Ryan asked after a few more quiet moments. “What’s the end goal for Shane Madej of the Skeptics?” He looked down at their hands and, distracted for a moment, marveled at how long Shane’s fingers were compared to his. “Are— is it like, get a record deal with your band? Stay teaching? Go on a tour? Go solo?”

“Well,” Shane said, sighing a little as he spoke. “It’s… We all want the band to be our full-time job in the end, I think. None of us want to be stuck doing our day jobs forever because we love being musicians and we love playing together. I just don’t know if that’s feasible for us. TJ’s got his girlfriend here, and Brent’s whole family lives around here. And I have my family here, too, but I feel like I could move away for a little bit. I guess… for me? The end goal is moving to New York. Making music with them full-time. Going on a tour at least once.”

Ryan nodded. “Why— y’know there’s way more labels in, like, Los Angeles. Or Seattle. New York isn’t exactly the place to go to make it as a musician.”

“Yeah, but Seattle’s rainy all the time. And LA doesn’t get seasons. I’d miss snow.” Shane’s voice gave him the impression that he viewed his logic as solid and unshakeable, and Ryan couldn’t quite understand why. Snow was no reason to derail a career, but… he respected Shane’s decision to stay where seasons changed. He’d never lived someplace that got four distinct seasons like that. Maybe it was something worth missing.

“Yeah, I guess. And I mean, New York is closer to your family.”

“Yeah! Exactly. But we’ll see how it goes. We don’t even have any demos recorded to send to labels, so I don’t think we’re gonna be hitting it big anytime soon.”

After that, their walk continued in silence. It was getting late, and Ryan really should be going, but he didn’t want to bail just yet. Shane was still taking him someplace that wasn’t home, and he wanted to see what else he had in store for him.

If he got to bed an hour later, he’d be fine in the morning with a little extra help. He’d stick around a little bit longer and text Jen to bring an extra cup of coffee to set in the morning.

Walking quietly with Shane was magical in its own right. Like all the other silences they’d shared before this, it was comfortable. Ryan didn’t feel obligated to fill it, and Shane didn’t seem tense, and it was _good._ The glowing lights from each theatre they past made Shane look ethereal, and Ryan wished he had a camera to capture it on film, so he could remember it perfectly forever. The one on his phone wouldn’t do Shane justice.

He was thinking about if he could manage to borrow a camera from work to get a quick video of Shane in high definition when Shane stopped in front of a dark alleyway. “Here we are.”

“Uh, where’s _here?”_ Ryan asked, looking down the alley for a split second before looking back at Shane. “Is this where you’re gonna murder me?”

“No, Ryan,” he said, fond exasperation coloring his tone. “This is the back of the Nederlander Theater, which is the former site of the Iroquois Theater.” The way he said it gave Ryan the impression he should know why that was important or relevant in any way. He didn’t.

“Yeah? And?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Oh my god. Okay. In the early 1900s, the Iroquois Theatre was heralded as fireproof. Of course, calling it that was practically asking for it, y’know? Anyway, it caught fire during a matinee performance and burned to the ground. Two thousand people were trapped inside because the building only had one functional exit – most of the other exits required people to actually break the locks off the doors. This pre-dated fire codes, obviously. Six hundred of those people – two hundred of which were children – were pronounced dead. Some of them were trampled to death in the panic, others died from the fire itself. It was genuinely a tragedy.” Shane spoke with a respect for the lives of the individuals he was talking about; most history nerds he’d encountered in college were white guys with no regard for the human lives in their stories. He was so grateful Shane wasn’t like that.

But he was still clueless about why they were here, and he blinked at Shane, so Shane continued on.

“This alleyway was used as a temporary morgue, and now people report hearing weird noises and feeling things. They call it Death Alley. It’s _supposedly_ very haunted.”

It all connected in Ryan’s brain, and he couldn’t help how fond and touched he sounded. “You brought me someplace haunted on our first date.”

That was apparently the reaction Shane was looking for, and his smile softened as he squeezed Ryan’s hand. “I brought you someplace where peoples’ minds play tricks on them, Ry, but yes. I did.”

Ryan smiled up at Shane and stood on his tiptoes to press a gentle kiss to his scruffy cheek; Shane’s blush as Ryan pulled away was a thing of beauty. “This is the weirdest and most thoughtful thing anyone’s done for me in a long time.”

Shane chuckled, and in a moment of uncharacteristic tenderness, he brought the hand he was holding up to his lips to kiss his knuckles gently. Ryan felt his face flush, and Shane smiled against his skin. “I’m glad you like it,” he said softly, and he let their hands fall back to where they’d been hanging at their sides. “Wanna take a walk down?” He started walking backwards, tugging Ryan’s hand as he moved into the alley itself.

The mood shifted from soft and sweet to tense in a moment, and Ryan almost yelled “no!” Shane cracked up, laughter getting to the point where it was noiseless and breathy instead of full-bodied like normal. “C’mon, man! It’s just an innocent little alley!” Shane tugged at him again, moving even deeper into the dark. “The scariest thing down here is probably a rat. C’mon. You wanna prove me wrong, don’t you? Be a brave little ghost hunter, Ryan!”

“No no no. No way dude. Absolutely not. That’s… no. I’m totally cool with not going down there. I think I would die. No.” Ryan kept shaking his head as he talked, which only made Shane laugh more; after the initial panic had died down, Ryan started to laugh along. That was one of his favorite things about Shane – his laughter never felt malicious. Even when he was teasing him, it felt kind. It made it easier for him to relax and laugh along and be himself.

Being around Shane was entirely effortless sometimes.

“You’re really easy to rile up,” Shane said, tone still teasing even though his laughter had finally faded away. He pulled Ryan a little closer to the entry of the alleyway to get him out of the middle of the sidewalk, and even just being a step nearer to that dark space sent Ryan’s heart racing; his hand shook in Shane’s, and Shane squeezed it once. _I’ve got you,_ it seemed to say. “I’m not gonna force you to. You _do_ need to sleep tonight so that you’re functional on set in the morning. I don’t wanna be the reason Peretti finds an excuse to yell at you.”

Ryan nodded; his eyes stayed glued to the dark alley, and his hand kept shaking. Shane shifted them both so that he was between Ryan and the darkness, and Ryan was forced to look at him instead. Immediately, Ryan felt a little bit more calm.

“Thank you,” he said softly, leaving the reasoning for his thanks ambiguous. There was so much he wanted to thank Shane for anyway. “Seriously. This is… I’m very touched that you thought of this. Even if I’m not walking down there. This is easily the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

Shane beamed at him. “Wow. High praise.”

He shrugged, trying to play it off as casual even though he meant it sincerely. “It’s been so good I don’t really want it to end, y’know?” Squeezing Shane’s hand, he sighed. “But I probably should get home so I can get some rest.”

“I’ll walk you,” Shane said immediately, thumb brushing over Ryan’s knuckles again. “So it doesn’t have to end right away.” Ryan could tell he was trying to hide the eagerness in his voice, but he couldn’t do it convincingly. It made Ryan feel a little bit better to know he wasn’t the only one wanting this date to last longer than was reasonable.

“Only if you get an Uber home so I’m not worrying about you getting murdered on a train.”

Shane laughed a little and nodded. “Okay. Deal.”

They bickered the whole walk home – Shane had brought up the Zodiac Killer, and Ryan _had_ to tell him about a project he did in film school about the case; when he confessed that going to the locations of each murder with his friend Byron had freaked him out, Shane had laughed.

“You really thought that he was gonna pop up and murder you?”

“Yes, okay? It was fucking sketchy, dude! And it was dark!”

“You’re so ridiculous. Aren’t you pretty sure he was dead? Like, you picked out a prime suspect, right? And he died years ago?”

“Listen.”

Neither of them dropped the other’s hand, though, and Ryan kept stepping a little closer to Shane whenever he could.

By the time they reached Ryan’s building, Ryan was leaning into Shane’s side. It was too warm to be doing that for any length of time, but the night had made Ryan soft and wanting for physical contact. Shane didn’t seem to mind, and he kept his strides short enough that Ryan could keep up with him without needing to power walk. They were good at adjusting to being in each other’s space.

Ryan expected them to say goodbye at the front stoop to his building, but Shane opened the door for him and waited for Ryan to unlock the one inside. “I’m doing this properly,” he said when Ryan gave him a confused look. “I’m walking you all the way home.”

Ryan wasn’t about to complain.

They stood outside of his apartment door, his hand still in Shane’s, for a few long, quiet moments. Ryan was just looking up at Shane, taking in how deeply happy he looked. It wasn’t obvious by any means; Ryan had just gotten pretty good at reading Shane’s face over the past few months. It was in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and the way the right corner of his mouth curved up, even when he wasn’t actively smiling. Happiness was a good look on Shane.

“So. Tonight was nice,” Shane said, breaking the silence. “I had a really good time.”

“Me too.” Ryan couldn’t help but blush with the way Shane was looking at him. There was something a bit more intense under the fondness in his eyes; he didn’t want to use the word _lust,_ but _want _described it pretty well. His brain would spiral – into a good place, but spiral nonetheless – if he thought too hard about it. “I’d love to do it again sometime. If you want to, I mean.”

Shane’s eyes glanced down at Ryan’s mouth, and he stepped a tiny bit closer, crowding Ryan back against his door a little bit. “I _definitely_ want to do this again.” His voice was pitched low, and Ryan couldn’t help but shiver a little bit. Shane was so imposing like this, and he liked it far more than he should.

“Good.” That was all Ryan could manage as his free hand found Shane’s hip, tugging him towards him. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

Shane smirked, and he used his right hand to tilt Ryan’s chin up. “Me too.” His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned down. Ryan let him, and his eyes closed as Shane pressed his lips to Ryan’s.

This kiss, unlike their first, had an edge to it from the start. Ryan made a soft, desperate noise in his throat as Shane ran his tongue against his bottom lip, and he surged upward to deepen it himself. His mouth fell open, and Shane took the invitation for what it was; he slipped his tongue into Ryan’s mouth just enough to tease.

Ryan groaned, and Shane pulled back enough to huff out a laugh against the corner of Ryan’s mouth.

“You’re an asshole,” Ryan said, leaning back against his front door as Shane kissed his cheek. 

“You have to be up early,” he said quietly, scruff scratching at Ryan’s face with every word he spoke. “You need to be in bed.”

Ryan laughed a little, incredulous. “You’re seriously gonna say that right now? All I wanna do is drag you inside and make out with you for, like, an hour. I’m too keyed up to sleep.”

Shane laughed again and moved to kiss Ryan properly one last time. “Next time, baby.”

With a sigh, he thread one hand through Shane’s hair and pulled him down into a few more kisses; these were brief and less heated, but they were still good, and when he let Shane go, his face was a little redder. “I’m holding you to that, Madej.”

“Don’t worry. ‘M not gonna forget.” His voice sounded husky and the slightest bit strained; Ryan took that as a victory.

Shane stepped back and Ryan immediately felt a little cooler. He was still hesitant to say goodbye, but he knew Shane was right, unfortunately. It helped a little to see that Shane was as reluctant as he was, and he turned to unlock the door.

“I’ll text you,” Shane said behind him as he pushed the door open. “And we’ll figure out when we can do this again.”

“Yeah.” Ryan turned to look at him one more time. “Please? We’ll figure it out. Fit it in between work and band stuff.”

Shane nodded and paused for just a moment before swooping in for one last kiss. “Goodnight,” he said softly. “I’ll let you know when I get home safe.”

“Goodnight.”

Ryan waited until Shane was down the stairs to close his apartment door, and he leaned back against it with a sigh. He’d expected a good night, but Shane had really gone above and beyond to make it absolutely perfect. He felt a little giddy with it, and he sent a text to Jen before he hopped in the shower to wash his hair. “He’s absolutely perfect,” he told her, and she sent back an exorbitant amount of smirking emojis in return. He knew tomorrow she’d ask him for all the details, and he worked on committing every perfect moment to memory so he could provide. 

His shower went quickly, and he changed just as fast; he needed to get in bed in the next half-hour if he wanted to be fully rested for work at five in the morning. As he slipped under the covers and put his phone down to charge, he got a message from Shane. There was no text, just a singular yellow heart emoji.

Ryan sent back a blue heart of his own before he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a few quick notes!
> 
> \- the tom cruise & popcorn bits were taken from their podcast with matt real which is a real hoot, i highly recommend listening to them!  
\- the iroquois theatre thing is true! [here](https://mediumboybergara.tumblr.com/private/190188826411/tumblr_Y74DZxBLv6ju11e8O) is the video that made me aware of the thing itself, and then i did additional research to make sure this was as accurate as possible.
> 
> we're almost halfway done and i'm still deeply in love with this 'verse. i'm like... one chapter away from finishing. it feels big. i'm emotional. we're gonna hit 70k words.
> 
> see you next week and hopefully i'll be out of my funk and arriving with more than just chapter 10! who knows!
> 
> leave a comment or some kudos if you dig it.


	10. mid-august in a nutshell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello again friends. i am so so so sorry for the delay in posting this. life has been an actual nightmare and in my attempts to juggle two jobs, school full-time, and having some semblance of a social life, i let some things fall to the wayside. this, unfortunately, was one of them.
> 
> i'm attempting to be a bit better now, and as an apology for the delay, i'm posting two chapters. this way we'll also get back on track and i can keep posting on my normal schedule. (they also work better as a continuous unit, so!)
> 
> thank you to [jess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy) for the beta and being a delightful human and amazing writer.
> 
> i'm more active on [twitter](http://twitter.com/thexwalrus) than anywhere else right now, so if you want to come pester me for new stuff, that's your best bet.
> 
> playlist for this chapter can be found [here](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5g10dnKzNwJskLZ1gpGUTv?si=Mo4e0IRZQJ-Tu2Yg3xS-6Q)

Dating Shane turned out to be a lot easier, logistically, than Ryan anticipated.

With his own weird work hours, and Shane’s irregular schedule tutoring and teaching and his dedication to the band, Ryan thought that finding time for dates and spending time together outside of the usual weekend nights at the Innertown would be near impossible.

The morning after their first date, Shane texted Ryan about TJ’s girlfriend’s late birthday gathering. It was happening on a weeknight, so it wouldn’t run too late, and it was being held at a vaguely-upscale Italian place. “Fancy, but not too fancy,” was how Shane described it. He’d given Ryan enough notice to check his schedule and see if it would work out.

Ryan had a ten o’clock call time the day after the party; it felt like a minor miracle that he was able to go, and he made a point to add  _ Kate’s birthday dinner with Shane _ to his calendar app so he couldn’t forget.

They found moments to be together briefly even when they were both busy; they’d meet up to pick up Chipotle in the shared free hour after Ryan got off work but before Shane had band rehearsal. They’d grab coffee together on mornings where Ryan had a late call time and Shane had an early tutoring session. The stolen hours they managed to find added up, and helped them fall into a rhythm that felt a little bit like dating before Kate’s big party; knowing they’d found someplace comfortable helped Ryan feel a little less anxious when the party rolled around.

Hanging out with the full band and their partners was a good time; Kate was incredibly fun and funny, and TJ was visibly smitten in a way Ryan never thought he’d see him. It seemed to be something she did to everyone - she softened the edges of the people around her in the best way possible.

“We’ve been dating for like… ten years,” she told Ryan while TJ pulled Shane aside to talk about something privately. “I guess I’m kind of part of the weird little family these guys have now. It kind of feels like I’m a mom to a bunch of really tall teenagers sometimes, though.”

Ryan laughed. “Oh, I can only imagine.”

Kate’s smile was gentle and soft, and she looked over at TJ with an immeasurable fondness in her eyes. “Yeah, well, Teej makes it worth it in the end. He’s my best friend and my better half. I’d put up with Zack and Brent arguing over football for the next twenty years if I had to to keep TJ around.” She glanced over at Ryan and fixed him with a stern look. “But don’t tell him I said that. That’s too cheesy for us.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

Halfway through the night, towards the end of dinner, Shane put his arm around the back of Ryan’s seat at their table. Ryan tried to keep his shock invisible, but then Shane’s hand was rubbing at his shoulder and he felt like he was going to vibrate out of his skin. Shane was apparently okay with them being a thing in front of his friends; it felt like it gave their situation a little more weight than just the promise of going on another date.

Brent was the first to notice, and he pointed it out to his girlfriend subtly before he caught Shane’s eye. “Hey, that’s new,” he said, keeping his voice low as not to alert too many people at the party. Shane must’ve told the guys that Ryan didn’t like being the center of attention in new crowds, and Ryan was struck by just how much he liked this man all over again.

“Yeah. Kinda.” Shane looked at Ryan and smiled - the soft one he often wore around Ryan - and shrugged. “It’s good, though.”

“Good, man, you deserve that.” Brent smiled and nodded a few times. “‘M glad it’s workin’ out and stuff. And, like, Ryan-- dude, you seem pretty cool, so it’s like. We get a whole bonus friend out of the deal. Everyone wins.”

Ryan laughed and nodded while Shane just covered his face. “I like that you’ve decided that my boyfriend should be someone that benefits the band as a whole,” Shane said, voice a little strained with exasperation while Brent smirked.

He could definitely feel Ryan tense after he spoke, and he pressed a kiss to his cheek with a whispered “sorry about that.” They hadn’t talked about what they were yet - they’d been an item for a little over a week, and this was technically a second date, if Ryan was reading the situation right. It was clear the word had just slipped out and Shane didn’t mean for it to, but that was fine.

“Why are you sorry?” Ryan asked him, voice just above a whisper. “Isn’t that what we are?”

Watching the warm smile come over Shane’s face was beautiful, and he kissed Ryan’s forehead almost reverently. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s what we are.”

It wasn’t until everyone was getting ready to leave that Mark and Zack noticed the closeness between Ryan and Shane. “Oh, shit, did you guys finally do something?” Mark hit at Zack’s arm, but he was smiling to himself.

“Are you serious, man?”

“What? Dude we don’t know!”

Ryan had to chuckle at them; Mark was rolling his eyes and Zack still looked a little confused and a little hopeful. Ryan was going to let Shane take the reins here, and Shane swallowed hard before he spoke.

“Yeah. Uh, I didn’t plan on doing this as some formal announcement on Kate’s birthday.” He looked at her and smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Kate.”

“It’s not like I’m supposed to be the center of attention or anything,” Kate teased, rolling her eyes. She picked up her bag from under her seat and motioned to the table as she stood. “Please, Shane, you have the floor.”

TJ looked at her with all the love in the world as Shane huffed. “You’re all horrible.” He paused, looking down at Ryan and taking his hand. “So. Ryan and I are dating now. That’s a thing that’s happened, now you’re all in the loop, you’re welcome.”

“Hell yeah.” TJ held his fist out towards Ryan, and Ryan bumped his own against it, even though he was very confused. “‘M glad the big guy pulled his head out of his ass to finally make shit happen.”

“Well, actually,  _ I _ was the one to confront him about what was going on, so…” Ryan looked up at Shane’s face, smirking, and Shane shook his head while his friends all heckled.

“Oh shit, he can’t even take the credit! Ryan, good on you for doin’ that. We all would’ve suffered if Shane had kept on pining and pretending he wasn’t.”

“TJ, I swear to god--”

“Hey, I’m just bein’ honest with the guy!”

“You’re out of the band.”

As everyone laughed and started to head out of the restaurant to head home, Zack and Brent and Mark all pulled Ryan aside. His heart started racing; were they going to give him the shovel talk? Were they going to tell him he wasn’t good for Shane?

“Hey, we just wanted to say that, like, we’re super glad you and Shane are a thing,” Zack said quietly, smiling all the while. “He’s been really, really happy since you and him started, like, hanging out and talking and stuff.”

Mark nodded and clapped Ryan on the shoulder. “Seriously. Welcome to our weird little band family, Ryan.”

Ryan stuttered out his thanks before they all headed their separate ways, and as Shane took him home, he leaned into his side.

“The guys all approve,” he said softly, looking at their clasped hands in their lap as the train shuddered to a stop at a station. “So that’s terrifying and cool. No pressure or anything. Mark said I’m part of the weird little band family now.”

Shane blinked a few times as the doors opened and shut, letting a blast of warm, humid air in. He was quiet until the train pulled away. “Wow. You’re… they really do approve. That’s impressive.”

Ryan must’ve looked horrified. 

“You’re not under any pressure, calm down.” Shane’s thumb stroked over his knuckles again; Shane had noticed how soothing Ryan found that gentle contact, and he’d gotten into the habit of using that to calm him down when he started to get overwhelmed. It worked every time. “It’s just that most of my significant others have had to really win the guys over. You kind of just… happened, and they’re sold on it.”

Ryan frowned. “I feel like that’s too good to be true. It has to be harder. It can’t be that easy, can it?”

“It can, Ryan, relax. You’re intensely likeable, which I can attest to.” Shane kissed his temple gently, and they watched as a group of young kids boarded the train, talking loudly and occasionally bursting out into showtunes. “And to be fair to all of my exes, they eventually  _ did _ win the guys over. We all parted on good terms. Just in case you’re worried I have skeletons in my closet or something that’ll ruin things.”

And just like that, Shane had squashed an anxiety of Ryan’s before it had even had the chance to grow.

As they had every time they’d parted leading up to this, their goodnight kiss lingered a bit longer than the last. Part of Ryan wondered if they were rushing into things; another part of him knew that the chemistry between them was too strong to let it happen any other way. He kept one hand on Shane’s tie as they kissed goodbye outside of Shane’s apartment, and he felt Shane’s breath catch in his throat as he did.

If they were moving too fast, Ryan decided that was no one’s business but theirs.

After Kate’s party, the band got the weekend off; Zack had a thing out of town with his family, so the rest of the crew headed out to a barcade together instead. Ryan, of course, got to tag along, and Brent and TJ gave him the okay to invite his work friends.

The combination of Jen, Curly, Steven, and Shane was powerful, and within fifteen minutes of them meeting, Ryan regretted some choices he’d made.

Aside from Jen, Shane hadn’t met any of them; he introduced himself first to Andrew, and Andrew’s eyebrows raising was the only reaction they got to the news. Jen greeted him with a powerful hug, and Ryan had to laugh at Shane’s reaction. “Careful, Shane, she’s tougher than she looks.”

“I’m getting that now,” he wheezed out as Jen squeezed him tighter to hammer Ryan’s point home.

Steven and Curly were off at the bar getting drinks for the group, and Ryan and Shane went over to help them carry the obscene amount of alcohol they’d ordered. Shane was smart enough to use a moment where no one was holding anything breakable or spillable to share the news.

“Hey, I’m Shane, I’m Ryan’s boyfriend.”

Steven’s eyes went so wide it was almost cartoonish; Curly simply said “hold the fuck up” while Ryan wheezed a little bit and leaned into Shane’s side. 

“No, for real, hold the fuck up, since when?” Curly ignored the two beers the bartender put in front of him. “Ryan. Chero. I thought we were friends. Why didn’t you tell me you were dating tall pale and handsome?”

“Hey, first of all, you called him weird the first time you saw him,” Ryan fired back, and Curly just shrugged. Ryan was the only one who heard Shane’s quiet little laugh at the revelation. “Second of all, it’s been like… two days since we made things kind of official, so.”

Curly’s eyes narrowed, and he continued to look at the two of them suspiciously while he grabbed a few drinks to carry back to the group. “I’m gonna decide if I can forgive you,” he told them seriously, eyeing them as he walked away.

Steven watched Curly go, shaking his head. “He’s so fucking dramatic sometimes,” he said with a little smile. “Congrats, guys! That’s really exciting!” He grabbed a couple of the drinks - just his and Andrew’s, by the look of it - and headed back to the group.

Shane and Ryan just laughed. “At least Steven took it well?” he offered, and Ryan just kept laughing as he grabbed some of the beers to bring back to their friends.

As the night wore on, one thing became clearer with every conversation: Curly would not let Ryan’s betrayal of him go. “My baby boy didn’t even tell me he was gettin’ lucky.”

That made Ryan splutter. “No! No. Stop it. No. I wouldn’t tell you even if I was.” He turned bright red where he stood next to Shane, and Shane just sipped at his beer quietly. “We are… no. Stop. Curly, you suck.”

When Curly’s eyes were back on them, Shane winked and slid his hand into Ryan’s back pocket. Ryan yelped, and Shane cracked up as Curly whined; once the commotion died down, Shane bent over low to whisper in Ryan’s ear. “Sorry about that. Just thought I’d get under Curly’s skin a little.”

“‘S fine,” Ryan assured him. “Really.”

Before he pulled away, Shane kissed his hair. “And hey, by the way? You got a nice ass, Bergara.”

Things returned to some semblance of normalcy the following weekend; the week leading up to it was uneventful - both Shane and Ryan were swamped with work, and the most they got the chance to see each other was a moment in passing at a coffee shop. But when Friday rolled around, Ryan headed back to his favorite haunt as he always did. He got settled at the bar, and Joyce handed him his usual without him even asking. He was starting to love being a regular someplace; it felt good to know that the staff would always be happy to welcome him back.

The Skeptics entered not a few minutes later, and as the band loaded their gear onto the stage, Shane made a beeline for the bar, his guitar case in hand. He was beaming at Ryan, and once he got close enough, he spoke. “Hey,” he said, leaning down for a kiss. Joyce dropped a glass behind the bar, and Ryan laughed against Shane’s mouth.

“Hi, big guy,” he said softly as they separated, reaching up to touch his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Ah, well, y’know. There’s a cute guy I gotta play some songs for, hopefully win him over.”

Ryan’s giggle was embarrassing, but Shane lit up like the sun when he heard it. Their tender moment was interrupted by Joyce coming over to wipe the bar down where they were leaning.

“So y’all weren’t gonna tell me you were dating. No. You just thought ‘hey, let’s kiss in front of an unsuspecting party. That’s fine.’” She sounded stern, but one look at her face gave away just how happy she was. “Nah. Just keep me in the dark.”

Ryan must’ve looked appropriately sheepish because she shoved at his arm before waving them both around the bar for a hug. It was awkward, trying to hug two people of very different heights, but she managed to squeeze them both. Ryan caught Shane’s eye beside him and they both chuckled a little.

“I’m so happy for y’all. If anyone deserves this, it’s you guys. I  _ told _ you you were his new muse, Bergara.”

That got Shane blushing. “I know you did,” Ryan said, looking at Shane while he spoke. “I shoulda listened to you.”

“Hey, hey, when was this?” Shane looked confused as Joyce let them go and shooed them away from behind the bar. “How long have you known?”

“Oh, a while,” was all she said, winking. “Now go finish settin’ up. You got a set to play.”

Shane grimaced; he knew she was right, but Ryan could tell he still wanted to press for more information. “‘M gonna go get ready,” he said quietly, kissing Ryan one more time before leaving. “Wait for me after the show?”

“Always do, don’t I?”

Shane’s smile made Ryan’s heart skip a beat. “You’re my favorite.” His voice was so sincere, Ryan was reeling, and Shane walked away like he hadn’t just made Ryan’s day.

The band set up and Joyce was pulled away to help another patron; Ryan watched Shane and TJ have an intense-looking conversation off to the corner of the stage. TJ nodded a few times as Shane pat his shoulder before stepping back and adjusting his guitar.

Brent started a steady rhythm on the kick drum, and with that, the show started.

TJ looked focused as he plucked out a folk-like melody, and Shane let the neck of his guitar fall as he gripped the microphone in front of him, singing in a voice Ryan hadn’t heard him use before. It was a little… nasal, almost. It allowed Shane to hit higher notes than he had in Ryan’s time listening to him, and it worked for the folk-y vibe of the song.

The chorus hit, and Shane’s guitar came screaming in, and Ryan was suddenly a lot more into the song.

The table with the most direct line of sight to the stage had been empty for most of the night so far, but as the song wound down, someone took a seat - Kate, and she looked around uncomfortably. Ryan did his best to catch her eye, and when he raised his beer towards her, she smiled and waved; Kate didn’t fully relax until Kelsey brought her a drink, and TJ smiled down at her from the stage.

The Skeptics’ first song faded out and the crowd at the bar cheered and applauded. “Thank you,” Shane said, smiling at the crowd. “Let’s keep the show rollin’.”

Brent counted them in and they launched into their next song, no preamble, and Ryan got a little more comfortable on his stool.

The bar was no busier than it was most nights, but something about the energy felt bigger and more charged than it had before. Ryan felt that familiar anxiety of  _ something’s going to happen _ settle in his gut, but he pushed it aside in favor of pulling out his phone to send a video to Jen.

_ ugh, that’s your boy!! _

_ seriously though they’re good we gotta go see them together one last time before y’all leave. the whole gang. _

** _absolutely yes please._ **

** _maybe next weekend if the guys aren’t busy._ **

_ i’m so down! _

Ryan opened up a group text to start the planning phase, and he was halfway through typing the first message when the song ended and Shane started speaking again. Ryan looked up; the rest of the band was exiting the stage, leaving Shane alone in front of the crowd. The way his fingers idly tapped along the fretboard of his guitar gave away how uncomfortable he felt in front of the crowd without his friends around him.

“So we’re mixing things up a little,” he said, one hand moving to his guitar strap and tugging on it. “Uh. This is a song I haven’t really finished yet, but the way it is now, I can play it on my own. It’s called Amy. Please enjoy.”

The song sounded a little weird, being nothing but an electric guitar and Shane’s voice, but somehow, it worked. It was slow and sultry and sad - something about it was almost longing, and Ryan made a mental note to ask Shane about how he came up with it. 

While Shane was singing to the crowd, the rest of the band had gathered in the corner, huddled together and most likely discussing something; TJ seemed to be at the center of it, and he kept patting one of his pockets. Zack was smiling like a fool; whatever they were discussing was good, at least. That calmed Ryan’s nerves just a little.

The band moved back towards the stage as Shane finished the song, and Ryan made sure to cheer as loudly as possible - Shane noticed him and rolled his eyes, mumbling a quick “thank you” into the mic before he stepped back. He shifted closer to TJ’s side of the stage, and TJ stood in Shane’s spot.

“So I said we were mixing things up, and I meant it,” Shane told the crowd, all of his previous confidence back tenfold. “This next song was written by TJ, and he’s gonna sing it, so. I’ll let him tell you about it.” He motioned towards what had been his mic, and TJ stepped up, shoving one hand in his pocket.

“Uh. I started writing this song three and a half years ago for my girlfriend,” he admitted, looking down at where Kate was sitting in front. The crowd  _ aww _ -ed and TJ rubbed the back of his neck. “And it’s finally finished - she’s here tonight too, so I’m gonna sing it for her. Hope you like it, babe.”

Shane had swapped to an acoustic guitar while TJ was speaking, and he opened the song with a few gentle strums. TJ watched him, and Shane nodded encouragingly towards the crowd so TJ would start singing.

Even with his clearly heightened nerves, TJ’s voice was clear and steady; his eyes never left Kate where she was sitting in front of him. Ryan couldn’t see Kate’s face, but she leaned over to rest her head in her hand propped up on the table.

The piano, bass, and drums all came in on the chorus, and Ryan was amazed - TJ was really good at songwriting. Shane had told him he dabbled in it, but this seemed like work from someone far beyond that level. Sure, it had taken years, but the effort and the care showed in how good and full and joyful the song sounded.

Eventually, the whole band joined in to sing the chorus with TJ, and it made Ryan want to join in even though he couldn’t really sing at all. It was catchy and the happiness was contagious, and the other people around the bar seemed to agree.

It wound down towards the end, and TJ removed the microphone from its stand. He moved off of the stage, down to the table where Kate was sitting, and as the last note hung in the air, he dropped to one knee.

Holy _shit._

The crowd cheered as TJ pulled out a ring box, and he left the mic on the floor as he opened it up and showed it to Kate. Whatever he said was quiet and just between them, and Kate nodded frantically as TJ stood up and wrapped her in a hug. She kissed him and Zack threw up one of his fists.

The celebration converged on the happy couple, and Ryan shoved through the crowd to hug them both. Kate was crying, but still held out her hand to show him her ring, and TJ pulled him close for a warm, brief hug. 

Ryan was just about to extricate himself from the conversation - other people wanted to talk to Kate and TJ - when arms wrapped around his waist.

“I’m happy for them,” Shane said, voice low and warm in Ryan’s ear. Ryan leaned back against his chest and nodded. Seeing such grand displays of love always made Ryan a little softer, a little more affectionate; the difference was, this time he had someone to share it with.

“Me too. How long was this being planned for?”

“Oh, a couple weeks. Had to fuck up a setlist to give Teej a little time to psych himself up to sing. And, y’know, propose to the love of his life.” Ryan could hear Shane’s smile, and he turned his head just enough to press a kiss to the underside of his jaw. That was enough to make Shane’s breath hitch.

Ryan let his hands fall to settle on where Shane’s were clasped. It felt so comforting and comfortable, and Shane kissed his temple.

“You wanna come over tonight?” he asked quietly. Anyone else wouldn’t have heard the nerves in Shane’s voice, but Ryan wasn’t just anyone.

He looked up, looking at Shane who was looking back with hopeful anticipation. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm about to go post the next chapter, but i do want to say that every single comment on this fic brings me immeasurable joy. i don't always get the chance to reply to every one, but know that when i'm headed to work or dealing with difficult stuff for school, they make me smile and i save all the emails to reread. you have all been excellent cheerleaders and i can only hope i don't disappoint with the arc of this story!


	11. night of august 19th/morning of august 20th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter comes with a bonus: i've made a [playlist specifically of songs shane listens to!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3jKN4JvsrQZRhGOGzNNRSp?si=WiwPDX-3QZCPnXSM77a5jw) here's what they're listening to in that one scene. 
> 
> other than that i have nothing to add! enjoy!

Relief washed over Shane’s expression, and he kissed Ryan’s hair again. “Cool. We’ll have space in the van since Teej obviously won’t be riding with us. D’you need to run home and grab anything? I’m, like, mostly sure I have a spare toothbrush somewhere.”

Ryan took a moment to think about it. It felt like it might be a little too much too soon to assume that Shane would lend him clothes to wear if he stayed over - and it was a little overwhelming just how much Ryan suddenly  _ wanted _ to wear something of Shane’s - but it didn’t have to be anything bigger than Shane helping him out because it was convenient. Ryan’s brain was the one twisting it into something weird and weighted. “Nah, if you’ve got a toothbrush, I’ll be good.”

“Alright. We’ll, uh, we’ll get packed up.” Shane stepped back, and Ryan immediately wanted to pull him back into his personal space. “It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Can I help?”

And that was how Ryan found himself carrying TJ’s guitars carefully out of the back door of the Innertown. They’d shooed him off to go home with his fiancée, promising that Ryan could handle his instruments with care - “they’re way lighter than the cameras I always gotta lug around, so I’ll be fine.”

Getting both of them out of a narrow doorway without bumping them was a close call, but he managed to keep his word.

Zack and Mark helped Ryan squeeze them into the back of the van like the world’s most expensive game of Tetris; Shane waited until they were done to slide his guitar on top of the rest of the pile before closing the back doors. “Y’know, if directing doesn’t work out, you’d make a great roadie for us,” Shane said, smirking a little as he headed towards the front of the van, sliding a side door open and motioning for Ryan to hop inside. “Load all our gear into the bar, put it all back at the end of the show while we get beers…”

Ryan laughed as he slid into the middle seat next to Brent. “Shut up, Shane.”

“What?” Shane asked, a laugh coloring his tone. “I think it’s a great idea! You got all those muscles - you could stop goin’ to the gym ‘cause lifting our gear was your workout! Imagine the money you’d save on a gym membership!”

Ryan shoved at Shane, and before Shane could retaliate, Mark caught their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I know I haven’t actually started driving yet, but I’m not above threatening to turn this van around.”

Zack and Brent started giggling, and it was contagious; the whole group laughed as they drove away from the Innertown, heading out of the downtown area and out towards the suburbs.

The drive took longer than Ryan expected it to; Zack fiddled with the radio from shotgun, and Brent drummed his hands on the top of Zack’s seat. “So, Ryan, Shane tells us you’re kind of a conspiracy theory nut.”

Sighing, Ryan shot a glare at Shane who raised his hands in a gesture of innocence. “I mean, yeah, I’m into that kinda stuff. The paranormal, true crime, conspiracies, anything like that.”

“Wait, like, government conspiracies or less serious stuff than that?” Zack asked, twisting in his seat. “Are we talking like JFK or Deflategate?”

“Both, dude. One, there are so many details in the JFK assassination that just don’t add up. Two, Tom Brady and the Patriots are dirty cheaters and I feel like that’s a pretty well-accepted fact.”

“Oh, no, you got him started.” Shane rubbed at his forehead, but Ryan elected to ignore him.

“Okay hold on,” Brent said, “the JFK thing is like… that’s like baby’s first conspiracy. If you’re a  _ nut, _ you gotta believe in some deeper shit than that.”

The conversation continued, getting a little more heated, and it lasted until Zack was dropped off. Shane even started contributing. Ten minutes later, they were at Shane’s building, and Shane offered Ryan a hand as he got out of the van. He took Ryan’s hand in his and led him up the stairs, opening the door and waving goodbye to Mark and Brent as they pulled away. “C’mon,” he said softly, keeping his voice low as he unlocked the main door. “Ariel’s probably asleep so keep it down until we’re on my floor.”

Ryan nodded and let Shane pull him in and up the stairs.

He was feeling kind of winded after the third flight, and when Shane felt him slowing down, he looked back at him. “Just one more,” he said softly. “Sorry we don’t have an elevator.”

“Don’t apologize, dude,” he huffed out. “I’m just… really not used to this many stairs.”

“Clearly.” Shane smiled at him and continued heading up, and Ryan took a deep breath and followed.

Shane’s apartment was smaller than Ryan anticipated - the kitchen was immediately to their right when they entered, and the counter space separated it from a living room. There was a closet to the left, and a hallway that branched off from the living room with only two doors on it: a bathroom and a bedroom, Ryan guessed. The couch looked comfortable and well-worn, and there were dozens of books and movies and board games on a bookshelf by the TV. A copy of Risk was on the coffee table, and Shane flicked on the lights and immediately moved to put it away. “Sorry, Mark and I got wrapped up in a game last night.”

“What time did you guys get to bed?” he asked through a laugh, taking off his sneakers and leaving by them the door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Ryan laughed, trying to keep his volume under control by covering his mouth. Shane threw the board in the box and covered it with all the pieces, and when he was done, he tossed it on a shelf unceremoniously. He turned and put a hand on his hip, trying to look relaxed and chill, and that made Ryan laugh some more.

“Dude, relax. You don’t have to try and impress me. I’ve been impressed. I’m into you. I’m probably gonna drool on you tonight.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Ryan’s eyes widened. Maybe Shane hadn’t planned on them sharing a bed. Maybe he was going to give Ryan the couch because he wasn’t ready for that. 

Shane nodded and took off the light jacket he was wearing, throwing it on one of the chairs. “Remind me to wear a shirt to bed, then. I don’t wanna wake up  _ extra moist.” _

The anxiety died in Ryan’s chest and he had to scoff. “Ew, dude, why’d you have to say it like that?”

“You’re the one who’s gonna be  _ drooling on me, _ Ry.” Shane sat down on his couch and started unlacing his boots with a soft smile up at Ryan, who was still standing. “I think I can say it however I want.”

Ryan sat down next to him, shifting until he was comfortable and not in any danger of being elbowed by Shane’s long limbs while he took his boots off. Once they were gone, Shane settled back, and before Ryan even had the chance to move, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him even closer.

Ryan shifted enough to lean up for a kiss, but he was interrupted by an indignant meow.

He jumped, and Shane laughed as he untangled himself. “Oh, it’s my beautiful boy! A handsome gentleman!” Shane’s voice went soft and affectionate as he reached out, and Ryan noticed a very orange cat looking at them from under the coffee table. “Come here, you have to meet Ryan.”

It may have been in his head, but Ryan swore his eyes started watering as Shane dropped off the couch and retrieved the cat from under the table.

“Ryan, this is Obi. Obi, meet Ryan. He’s my boyfriend,” he told the cat seriously, kissing his fur once. 

“Oh my god. I forgot you have a cat.”

“I do. He’s a regal young man.”

Ryan blinked a few times, then sneezed loudly enough to cause Obi to squirm right out of Shane’s arms.

Shane looked at Ryan, and then down at Obi, who was rubbing against Shane’s legs. “Oh, shit, you’re allergic, aren’t you?”

Nodding, Ryan sneezed again.

“Hold on.” Shane got up and headed down the hallway, and when he returned, he had two bottles of medication in his hands. “Does Claritin work for you? I only have Benadryl if it doesn’t, and I feel like you wanna wake up at a normal time tomorrow morning.”

Warmth spread through Ryan’s chest - Shane was so  _ fucking considerate, _ and it was always overwhelming, even though Ryan should’ve been accustomed to it at this point. “Claritin works, thanks. You really didn’t have to do that.”

Shane tossed the bottle to Ryan and turned to the kitchen. “Yeah I did,” he said calmly as he grabbed a glass from the cupboard. “I shoulda reminded you or… asked or something. I don’t want you suffering all night, Ry. This was supposed to be nice and romantic.”

When Shane returned with a glass of water for Ryan, Ryan leaned up to kiss him slowly. He tried to hold back on how much fondness he let bleed through; moving too quickly would ruin this perfect thing they were building, and he was so paranoid he would wreck it in the dumbest way. Shane smiled against his lips, and he knew everything was good. “Thank you. You’re great, y’know that?” He took the glass and threw the pill in his mouth, washing it down with a few sips of water. “Seriously.”

“Why thank you,” Shane said, sitting down and looking a little smug.

“If you’re gonna let it go to your head, I’ll take it back. It’s big enough already.”

Shane covered his heart with his hand. “You wound me, Bergara. I thought you liked my big head.”

“No one ever said I had taste.”

Shane’s laughter got Ryan laughing, and they collapsed into ridiculous giggles together on the couch for far too long. Ryan leaned into Shane’s side as they laughed at nothing, and they let it happen.

When they calmed down, Shane ran a hand through Ryan’s hair and paused. “Are you a morning shower person or a night shower person?” he asked, completely unprompted.

“Morning shower.” Ryan’s confusion was clear on his face. “Why?”

“Just… I was gonna say let’s go to bed, but if you wanted to shower first, it would kind of… ruin the mood.”

_ Oh. _ Ryan smiled just a little bit, reaching out to squeeze Shane’s hand. “I’m ready for bed if you are, big guy.”

Shane’s answering smile had an edge to it, and Ryan desperately wanted to find out what kind of edge it was.

Shane’s bedroom was the kind of messy that meant it was obviously lived-in; there were some stray clothes on the floor, a couple pairs of shoes by the closet, and a few abandoned cat toys scattered around. His bed - which was huge, unsurprisingly - was unmade. 

“Uh. Make yourself at home,” Shane said; it was clear he wasn’t used to having guests like this, and Ryan took his words to heart in an attempt to ease both of their nerves.

He wasn’t one to half-ass things, and he shed his jeans immediately. Shane almost choked, and Ryan laughed at him. “You told me to make myself at home, man! I did!”

“I know I did! I just didn’t expect--”

Ryan pulled his shirt over his head and Shane made a noise that Ryan couldn’t describe if he tried. 

He felt exposed, standing there in nothing but his boxers while Shane was still very much wearing a button-down and his pants were half-on. Shane was also staring, and his gaze was a lot to take in. Something eventually broke the spell, and Shane slipped his pants off the rest of the way before looking at Ryan once again.

“You’re… you’re absolutely unreal, man. No way.”

Ryan looked down at himself, frowning. “I mean, I know I’ve skipped some gym days, but I feel like I still look okay.” When he looked back up, Shane was right there, and his hands settled on his hips.

The places where Shane’s skin touched his own were hot like fire. “You’re the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” The sincerity with which Shane said it blindsided Ryan, and he couldn’t help himself - he pulled Shane down into a slow kiss.

Shane maneuvered him so that he could get on the bed, doing his best to not break the kiss; Ryan followed his lead so easily, sitting and laying back as soon as he felt the bed behind him. The kiss only broke when Shane moved away to let Ryan move so he was in a more comfortable position. 

While Ryan adjusted himself, Shane shed his button-up and traded it for a t-shirt. He kept his back to Ryan while he did, and Ryan was a little sad, but then Shane was back in bed, on top of him, and any sadness was chased from his mind. Shane kissed him a few times, each one more intense than the last, and Ryan got a feeling that sleep wouldn’t be happening just yet.

He had no complaints about that.

***

Ryan woke slowly and naturally; he was warm and comfortable in Shane’s bed, blankets mostly shoved off and pooled around his hips. Shane’s arm was hung over his waist, and Shane’s face was pressed to the back of his neck. He was snoring at a ridiculously loud volume, and he was honestly surprised he managed to get any sleep if that had been happening all night.

He allowed himself a few minutes of basking in how good it felt to wake up next to Shane like this. He’d slept incredibly well, better than he had in all his time in Chicago so far, and while there wasn’t enough to say definitively that it was because he was sleeping next to Shane, he liked that theory the most.

Eventually, though, he had to get up, and he did so as gingerly as he could; if Shane could sleep in, he wanted him to. He stopped once he’d gotten out of bed, just to make sure Shane stayed asleep. He rolled over and continued snoring, so Ryan grabbed his glasses, snagged a t-shirt off Shane’s bedroom floor and headed to the bathroom.

As he was washing his hands, he looked up into the mirror, and he had to step back to take it in. There was a line of hickeys down his collarbone, and his hair was an absolute disaster from Shane running his hands through it. He looked like a mess, and he loved it, and he took a minute to admire it before he threw the t-shirt on and tried to fix his hair.

Ryan headed to the kitchen; he had no delusions about his cooking skill, but he could handle making a small breakfast for Shane. He opened the fridge to see what Shane even had when Obi strolled up and rubbed against his legs.

He looked down, surprised, and then gave him a few scratches behind his ears. “Hey, Obi. Do you know if your dad has bacon?” Ryan pulled the carton of eggs out of the fridge and made sure the cat was out of the way before he closed the door. “Also, hey, do you know where the frying pans are?”

Obi wasn’t helpful - he just kept rubbing against Ryan’s legs, and Ryan was grateful for that Claritin working enough to stop him from sneezing every five seconds. He checked the freezer and saw a package of bacon - score - and pulled that out too. He put them as far back on the counter as he could, as not to tempt Obi into making a mess this early in the morning, and then he went investigating in the cabinets.

He'd located the saucepans when a voice said “next cabinet over, in the back” from behind him.

Ryan looked over, nervous. “Did I wake you, dude? I tried really hard not to.”

“Nah, I woke up on my own.” Shane looked as wrecked as Ryan had before he’d tried to make himself look presentable. Most of his hair was sticking straight up, and his neck was a little bit red from where Ryan’s stubble had rubbed it raw the night before. Ryan couldn’t help but look a little smug, knowing he was the reason Shane looked like that; Shane was oblivious to it, pushing up his glasses before bending down to pick up Obi. “Should I trust you cooking? Are you going to burn my apartment building down?”

Ryan laughed and shook his head as he opened the right cabinet and grabbed a frying pan. “Bacon and eggs is really the extent of my cooking ability. It’s like that and toast. So. I can at least make my boyfriend a nice breakfast. Dinner’s always gonna be takeout, though, sorry to break that to you.”

Shane grinned and shook his head. “There’s hope for you yet. But we’re not gonna have lessons in my kitchen because I like this apartment and rent’s reasonable.” He kissed Obi’s head once and put him back down on the floor; Obi ran off, bell on his collar jingling as he headed somewhere to do something important. 

Shane headed over to where Ryan was staying, and Ryan prepared himself for a kiss - until Shane ignored him completely and reached up to grab a small speaker off the top of the cabinets. He pressed a button and replaced it as it beeped a few times. Only then did he lean down to kiss Ryan.

“G’morning.”

Smiling softly and murmuring a “good morning” in return, Ryan turned back to the stuff he’d pulled out to make breakfast for both of them. He knew how he had to start, and he put the pan on the burner to start heating up while he tore open the pack of bacon. Shane had moved to the living room to grab his phone, and soon, music was playing from the speaker above Ryan’s head. 

“Do you mind?” Shane asked, returning to the kitchen space and grabbing some plates and a bowl from over by the fridge.

“Not at all, it’s nice. Now get out.” Ryan turned around and Shane handed him a spatula and put the dishes on the counter beside him.  _ “I’m  _ cooking  _ you _ breakfast. You can’t help.”

Shane blinked at him a few times and then silently complied, leaving the kitchen and getting comfortable on his couch.

Cooking the bacon went relatively uneventfully; Ryan only yelped and jumped back from splashing grease a few times, and Shane chuckled at him each time from where he was reading something on his phone. 

He stacked all the bacon on a plate and found an old takeout coffee cup on the top of the trash to pour the excess grease in, and then he got started with the eggs.

“They’re gonna be scrambled ‘cause that’s all I trust myself to do.”

“Scrambled’s good.”

Ryan broke an obscene amount of eggs into a bowl and mixed in a bit of cream; he’d venmo Shane some money to replace what he’d used for breakfast, and then he poured the eggs into the still-hot pan.

He was mixing them up with the spatula when an old Killers song came on, and Ryan found himself bouncing along to the beat he didn’t realize he remembered. Every now and then he stopped moving the eggs around to dance a little bit; he wasn’t good at that either, admittedly, but that didn’t stop him from half-singing along to lyrics he thought he’d forgotten.

He was in the middle of dancing to the last chorus when Shane came back into the kitchen, eyes fond, to grab them plates. “Don’t burn those,” he said softly, taking the spatula from Ryan’s hand and reaching for the pan. “You’re cute. Have I told you that?”

“I think you did once, but it’s always nice to hear,” Ryan teased, grabbing a slice of bacon and munching on it while Shane portioned out the eggs onto two plates. “Did they come out good?”

Shane looked at his plate and raised an eyebrow, studying the eggs for a few quiet seconds. “Eh.”

Ryan smacked his arm while he laughed, and he grabbed his own plate; before they left the kitchen, he stole one of Shane’s pieces of bacon as revenge.

They sat down on the couch to eat, both of them having to shove Obi away gently while they did so. “You can shower before you head out if you want,” Shane said quietly while he put Obi back on the floor for the fifth time. “I’ll grab you a towel from the top shelf so I know Obi hasn’t used it as a bed.”

“Yeah, that’d be great, thanks.” Ryan looked down at Obi, who meowed sadly at him. “Sorry, little dude, this breakfast is mine.”

“Stop being so whiny, sir, you have perfectly good food in the kitchen,” Shane scolded before he turned back towards Ryan. “And you can wear that shirt home if you want. I dunno if you’d wanna put your shirt back on, it probably smells like the bar.”

“Oh, sweet, thanks.” Ryan looked down at the Chicago shirt he’d borrowed, the same one Shane had wore the day they’d gotten coffee and lunch together. “I’ll wash it and give it back next time I see you.”

“Yeah, that’s totally fine. Plus, this way it’s a little less  _ walk of shame _ -y when you leave. And since we didn’t even have sex, I feel like doing a walk of shame is dumb. We’ll save that for next time.” And then Shane winked; Ryan’s heart raced and he knew his face was turning red.

“Yeah, dude. Next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be back on friday with another chapter. love y'all.


	12. august 22nd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm very sleepy and i need to pack for my excursion to new york tomorrow but i didn't want to flake on another chapter, so here we are! i love this chapter bc i got to really delve into the skeptics as a band, and that was fun as hell. as always, here's a [soundtrack](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3ubL9vQoETsvgNW6mZYkQ9?si=__GC7isFRY2cIcdliq9qPQ) for this chapter!
> 
> enjoy!

He’d known this day was coming the moment he’d arrived in Chicago. He had just been hoping it wouldn’t be coming anytime soon. Deep down, he knew he’d gotten more time than he could have ever expected - the news was months late - but selfishly, he still wanted to push this day off as long as he could. Now, there was no escaping it. It was here and present and totally unavoidable.

Jen had looked over at him the moment the announcement was made; Curly had been standing next to him, and he’d grabbed Ryan’s hand. Ryan knew that not all the attention was on him - most of it was on Peretti and Devon - but it felt like all the eyes were looking his way, and he felt panic rise up in his chest. He fought it down as best he could, barely holding it together as the cast headed their separate ways and Jen, Curly, Andrew, and Steven converged on him.

“I’m fine, guys, really, I promise,” he said, gently pushing his way through the small crowd that had gathered. “Really. I knew this was coming! It’s fine. I promise.”

“Ry, you don’t have to pretend,” Jen said gently, her small hand taking his. Andrew put a hand on his back as a show of support.

“I’m not pretending! I’m not. Seriously. I’m good. I’m gonna go home and eat some Chipotle and watch a shitty horror movie.” He shook Andrew’s hand off and yanked his own hand back from Jen’s - gently, but she still looked very concerned as he did so. “I promise I’m okay, guys. Just… let me process this on my own.”

Steven nodded. “As long as you reach out if you need us. You gotta promise.”

“I will.”

Jen wrapped her arms around Ryan, holding him close, and he rested his cheek on her hair. “Let me know how you’re doing later, okay?” He nodded, kissing her hair once, and when she let him go, he started heading back to his apartment.

He waited until he was alone, out of his Uber and safely in his living room, to call Shane. As the phone rang, he started to feel the tears welling up in the back of his throat. He swallowed hard, trying to keep them from falling. 

“Hey, Ry, what’s up?” Shane said, smile audible in his voice as he picked up the phone. “You don’t normally call, babe.”

Ryan swallowed hard again. “I, uh.” He cleared his throat and looked up at the ceiling. “I um. I got some news at work today,” he said, voice thicker than he wanted it to be. Maybe Shane hadn’t noticed how he sounded, maybe he could get away with it.

He heard a door close on Shane’s end of the call. “Is everything okay?” Shane asked, clearly concerned. “I can come over if you want me to, Ryan. Just say the word.”

“I…” Ryan knew seeing him would bring all the emotions he was feeling to the surface, make it impossible to conceal the heartbreak - not that he was managing that now. “I feel like I should tell you in person,” he admitted, and he felt the first few tears fall. “Can I… Yeah. Can you come over?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can be, Ry. I promise.” Shane’s voice was so sincere, and that just made Ryan cry a little harder. “I’m gonna pick you up, and… if you’re feeling up to it, you can sit in on rehearsal with me and the guys tonight, okay? Just so you’re not alone in your own head.”

Ryan nodded, sniffling, before he realized Shane couldn’t see him. “Yeah, that sounds… that sounds good.”

“Twenty minutes, okay? I’ll see you soon, little guy.” The pet name made Ryan smile, even as Shane hung up and he was left alone again. 

Time seemed to crawl by as Ryan sat in his living room, scrolling through his camera roll; there were so many horrible selfies with Curly and Steven and Andrew and Jen, and so many ridiculous videos of Devon and Steven after a few too many drinks. There were so many clips of the Skeptics playing, bits and pieces of songs Ryan now loved like they were his own. 

He avoided all the pictures of Shane.

He got the text that Shane was outside on his second run-through of all of the pictures, and he wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his shirt; he grabbed his wallet and keys and headed downstairs to meet him. He hoped he didn’t look too visibly upset when he got in the car.

“Oh, Ry,” Shane said quietly, pulling Ryan in for a brief, chaste kiss. Ryan just sobbed harder, and Shane held one of Ryan’s hands as he pulled away and started heading back towards his place. Now and then he would kiss Ryan’s knuckles, not saying a word, just letting Ryan cry as much as he needed.

They were almost to Shane’s apartment when Ryan found his voice. “We’re wrapping on location next Wednesday.”

“Oh.”

Ryan watched Shane white-knuckle the steering wheel as the gravity of what he said hit. He rubbed his thumb along Shane’s knuckles, a reversal of their usual roles, and he heard Shane take a deep breath through his nose. “So what does that mean for u-- for you?” he asked, eyes staying on the road, bypassing the turn for his street.

“The production company’s paying for my place until, um. Until next Thursday. I’ll probably be on a late flight back ‘cause they’re cheaper.”

Shane nodded, biting his lip. Ryan hated seeing him so withdrawn like this; he hated that he was the cause of it. “So.”

“So.”

“I’ll, um. I’ll be at the bar this weekend with the whole crew and stuff. Jen wanted to see you guys one last time with me before I left, so.”

“Good. That’s good.” There was a tension in his voice, and Ryan hated that he couldn’t tell if it was anger or just sadness. “And… we’ve got a week. That’s… that’s time. It’s not like you’re leaving tomorrow.”

They pulled up to a little single-family home, and Shane parked in the driveway; when he looked over at Ryan, Ryan could see tears welling up in his eyes. Instead of saying anything else, Shane just pulled him in for a kiss. Ryan let it linger a little bit.

Shane seemed reluctant to pull away, but he did, eventually. “C’mon. The guys are waiting for us.”

Ryan got out of the car, and the moment he got close to Shane, Shane put an arm around him and pulled him into his side. Ryan was glad for it; being apart any more than they needed to felt stupid - their time left was so limited now. He didn’t want to waste a single moment.

Shane guided him into the backyard - there was a weathered cellar door at the base of the house, and Shane threw one of the doors open. There was another door inside, and he motioned for Ryan to take the lead. 

“This feels incredibly sketchy,” Ryan admitted.

“It’s so we don’t disturb Brent’s family.” Shane pointed. “It’s unlocked and his basement’s all refurbished. It’s just the outside door that looks like a murder dungeon, I swear.”

Grateful for the return to some form of their normal, Ryan made a face, sucked it up, and headed down, opening the door.

Shane was right: Brent’s basement was extremely nice. It had been turned into a functional rehearsal space, a drumkit set up near one wall, soundproofing on most of the walls and parts of the ceiling. Brent was tightening something on one of his cymbals, and he looked up when Ryan entered. “Hey, man!” he said with a little wave.

Mark was sitting on a comfy chair by a little side table, a basket of yarn next to him as he knit what looked like a black and red striped hat. His bass was leaning against his chair, the cord to the amp weaving through the room like a snake.

Zack was laying on the couch that was shoved against one wall, legs thrown over the back of it, on his phone. Shane laughed when he saw him, and after the door was closed behind him, he went over to shove Zack’s legs off where they were resting on the wall. Zack almost fell off the couch, which made Mark chuckle from his seat.

TJ appeared at the top of the stairs that led into the house, and he came down with three bottles of water. “Oh hey, Bergara,” he said as he handed one water to Zack and one to Shane. “Cool to have you here. Welcome to Brent’s basement.”

“Happy to be here,” Ryan said, moving out of the way as Shane walked by with his guitar. Shane stopped dead, turned around, and kissed Ryan quickly before going back to what he was doing, and Ryan blushed profusely.

“Make yourself comfortable, Ry.” Shane plugged his guitar in and strummed a few times. “We’ll be here for a couple hours.”

He stepped over to the couch and plopped down on it, kicking off his shoes as the band tuned up. It felt like he was seeing something secret like this; the band wasn’t putting on a show, they were just playing for themselves, and it made everything seem so much more genuine. TJ and Mark were much more expressive, and Zack played dumb little melodies while they weren’t doing anything in particular. It felt a lot more fun than it did at the Innertown, and it was precisely what Ryan needed.

“Okay, guys, I wanna run through All I Need - I think we can try playing it at the bar in a week or two if we feel like we nail it tonight. We wanna try the slower opening, right?”

Zack nodded. “Yeah, I liked that  _ way _ better last time.”

“So I’m not coming in until  _ ‘wow,’ _ right?” Brent asked, twirling one drumstick in his hand like it was no big deal.

“Yeah, exactly. Wanna count us in?”

It was interesting to see the process behind the songs - Shane sang facing the guys, and he wasn’t afraid to stop the rehearsal to fix things.

“Wait, wait, wait - can we run through that harmony one more time?” 

By the time they’d finished playing the song all the way through, it had morphed and grown into something gorgeous, and after the first complete run-through, Shane looked back at Ryan. “What do you think? Is it ready?”

“It sounds amazing, dude, absolutely.”

Shane’s smile was so warm. “Cool. Good job guys.”

They took a quick break to rehydrate and adjust their tunings, and Zack played a few more notes as he waited. “Yo Shane, can we run through Talk Too Much? I feel like we’re close to getting it right there, y’know?”

“Hell yeah, man.”

And just like that, leadership shifted to Zack, who started talking to TJ and Shane about just how he wanted the guitars to sound in the introduction. Mark ran over the bass part over and over while they discussed things; Ryan watched as each piece of the song came together, Shane guiding the band in the right direction when Zack needed an extra hand. When they did a run-through of the song, it sounded fantastic - upbeat, existing somewhere between pop and rock and thriving in that space. Zack took the lead on vocals, and his voice was so well-suited for the genre, and Ryan couldn’t stop smiling. TJ and Brent looked just as excited, and when it ended, Mark spoke up.

“You’ve been hiding that voice from us for way too long, Evans.”

That got the whole band - and Ryan - laughing.

Rehearsal carried on like that for an hour or so, jokes interspersed between moments of brilliant collaboration and teamwork. It was clear that the band all loved what they did - and they all loved each other, too. They worked perfectly as a unit, and the only tension was light and playful in the moments of bantering.

The guys were so lucky to have this, and Ryan was so lucky to have found them by accident. Ryan had never quite believed in fate, but something like this - like finding a band and a man he’d be completely compatible with unexpectedly - was almost enough to change his mind and  _ make him _ believe in destiny and soulmates and some big universal plan.

It was clear that their energy was starting to wane towards the end - Brent’s general bounciness behind the drums had died down, and Zack had taken to leaning against the wall between songs or parts he needed to play. Ryan took a longer break as an opportunity to bring up something he’d been sitting on.

“Hey, this place would be perfect to record a demo in,” he said to no one in particular, looking around at the soundproofing. 

Shane turned to look at him, and Mark nodded at Shane’s side. “He’s right. The sound’s pretty dead in here, which is the kind of condition you’d need to get a really decent recording.”

“Yeah. I got my film gear that I brought with me - like, my own personal stuff. There are a couple mics I could bring. It won’t be anything fancy, but it’ll be something.”

Zack had perked up, but at that, he was practically bouncing where he stood. “Wait, seriously? You could record something for us?”

“I got a MacBook Pro and the Adobe Suite, man. I learned basic audio shit in school. I figure I can do something with what we record. It won’t be perfect.” He laughed a little. “I  _ really _ need to stress that it won’t be perfect. Like, at all.”

“But it’ll be something,” TJ repeated, nodding. “I mean, if you’re willing…”

Shane was still staring at Ryan, a little dumbfounded. Ryan carried on anyway. “I should be done with filming early tomorrow - I’m only on the call sheet until four. I can grab my gear, head this way, we can spend a few hours…” He shrugged. “I can get you guys a bandcamp set up and everything, so people can buy your music too. I can’t guarantee you’ll make a lot, but I’ll do the hard shit for free ‘cause I love you guys.”

“Hell fuckin’ yeah,” Brent said, smiling brightly from behind the drums. “I’m down if you guys are down.”

A murmur of assent passed through the band and Ryan beamed. “Cool, it’s a plan then.”

There was a renewed energy in the band, and Shane pulled TJ aside for a moment. He whispered something to him, and TJ nodded. He did this with all of the members of the band, and they all adjusted accordingly. Ryan was confused, but he was content to stay out of it - this wasn’t his place to interrupt.

“Ry,” Shane called. “We’re gonna do one last one, is that okay?”

“Yeah, this is your rehearsal. I’m just here to be nosy.”

“Okay. This one is…” Shane swallowed hard and looked back at TJ and Zack before looking back at Ryan. “This one’s for you,” he admitted, and Ryan melted immediately. “It’s still really new, so forgive us if we make mistakes.”

TJ started them off with a floaty, sliding note, and things started off quietly. Shane’s voice was almost husky as he started singing, and it sounded strange without the normal sound system that Ryan had gotten accustomed to.

_ “But somewhere there’s a light, a sign that it’s alright, I find it by your side,” _ Shane sang as the rest of the instruments built and swelled around him and the chorus exploded forth. 

The three-part harmony that the guys were singing was beautiful, and Ryan felt his jaw drop as the band kept playing.

_ “Watchin’ you dancin’ in the kitchen, I could call you my new religion,” _ Shane sang, smiling right at Ryan as he did, and TJ and Zack sang the  _ “wakin’ me up in the morning” _ with matching grins behind him. 

Ryan was reasonably sure he’d never be over the love songs Shane was writing because of him - that Shane really wrote lines like  _ “chaos inside us it turns into silence ‘cause we’ve got a little bit more” _ because Ryan Bergara was a part of his life now.

Even though it was still a new song, and Shane had warned him that they may make mistakes, the song sounded almost flawless to Ryan, and when it finished, Shane put his guitar down. Ryan took that as an invitation to walk up and hug him as tight as he could.

Shane kissed his hair a few times as they stood there, and Ryan only pulled back enough to pull him into a kiss. Brent aww-ed in the background, but Ryan ignored him in favor of threading a hand through Shane’s hair.

Shane was the one to break the kiss. “So I take it you liked it,” he said, smiling a little with his kiss-reddened mouth. “That’s good. Your opinion is the one that matters most, considering it’s another song for you.”

Ryan was overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he was feeling; it wasn’t love, not yet, but it was well on its way to being that, and if they kept this up, it would get there eventually - maybe sooner than he thought. Something about Shane made him think that maybe they were supposed to find each other, because there was no other explanation for how compatible they really were. There was no single word for how deeply enamored he felt or the complicated emotions that went beyond affection but weren’t quite love, but a song popped into his head that captured that nameless feeling perfectly. "I can't believe I'm gonna fucking say this," he mumbled to himself for a moment, and when Shane furrowed his brow in confusion, he sighed. “I don’t want to quote Carly Rae Jepsen,” Ryan started, and TJ started laughing where he was straightening up next to them. “But Shane? I really, really, really, really, really, really like you.”

Shane wheezed out a laugh, and Ryan laughed along with him; his arms didn’t fall from Ryan’s waist, and even though the rest of the band was packing up and cleaning up around them, they stood there together, unmoving. 

Eventually, Shane stopped laughing and looked down at Ryan, serious and sincere and smiling. “I really, really, really, really, really, really like you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't hate me y'all knew it was coming eventually
> 
> i'm not a huge fan of the end of this one but it works for what i needed it to and i will see u next friday xoxo


	13. august 23rd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! i spent all of thursday and friday sleeping which is why this is late! i'm so sorry!
> 
> as always, i owe my entire life to [yesi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks) and [jess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy) for beta-ing this ages ago (bc i can't write smut to save my life), and then yesi making sure it looked polished again.
> 
> attention: this chapter does get smutty. i don't think it's enough to warrant a rating change but it's a lil more explicit than my usual fade-to-black writing, so when you get to the kiss in the living room, which you'll know, that's when you can skip to the end. you won't miss anything if you do. feel free to! do what makes you comfy! xoxo your loving ace author.
> 
> enjoy, friends! and please check out the end note before you click away!

Shane whistled as Ryan came down the stairs of his apartment building with a backpack and two big bags of gear, one in each hand. They didn’t weigh a ton, not to him, but they made maneuvering down the narrow staircase and through the doorway awkward. “Ryan, you know we’re just doing audio recording, right?” Shane asked, holding out his hands for one of the bags. Ryan handed it off and Shane opened the trunk of his sedan to load it in.

“Yeah, but my gear wasn’t meant for this, so we gotta improvise,” he explained. “I definitely ended up bringing some stuff we won’t use, but I figured I’d be covered in case something doesn’t work. Also I stole a roll of gaff tape from set earlier for this shit, so.”

“My boyfriend, a criminal. Oh, what would my mother say,” Shane said dryly, and when all of Ryan’s gear was in the trunk, Ryan leaned forward to kiss him.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” Shane stayed in his space a hair too long before backing up. “Alright, let’s get this show on the road.”

The drive across town to Brent’s place was an excuse for Shane to do some vocal warmups. After the nonsense sounds, which had Ryan in stitches in the passenger seat, he moved onto singing along with his favorite songs on the radio. Ryan didn’t join in; he was enjoying the private performance too much to interrupt with his horrible attempts at carrying a tune.

As they pulled onto Brent’s street, Shane stopped singing and glanced at Ryan quickly. “Thank you for doing this for us,” he said quietly. “It’s… it really means a lot to the guys. It means a lot to  _ me. _ That you believe in  _ us _ or in our music so much that you’re willing to give up your free time for this.”

“Shane.” Ryan looked over at him, admiring his profile as Shane focused on the road. For a brief moment, he felt nostalgic for this: next week at this time, he’d be at an airport, heading home to Los Angeles to find another job. Shane would stay here, in Chicago, and the Skeptics would continue to play at the Innertown even though he wouldn’t be there to see it. Memories of moments like this, with this tall, lanky man he’d grown incredibly fond of in their time together, would be all he had to carry with him. “I’m doing this because I really, really believe in you as people. You work so well together and you’re all so good and talented and… I wanna see you be successful. I don’t mind giving up my free time if I’m giving it up to spend time with you.”

Shane’s cheeks turned light pink as he pulled into Brent’s driveway, and as he put the car in park, he reached out blindly to take one of Ryan’s hands.

“I’m going to miss you so bad when you’re gone.”

They both moved to get out of the car, pretending like Shane’s words didn’t hurt in a way that wouldn’t go away quickly; they shared the load of Ryan’s gear and headed to the backyard to head down into the basement. Brent was obviously already there, dragging the little side table over to the couch. “Hey guys! I didn’t know what you needed but I figured you’d need a table for your laptop, so.”

Ryan grinned. “That’s perfect, actually.” He scrambled to help Brent move it the rest of the way - it was deceptively and unnecessarily heavy - and then started setting up.

He didn’t have much in the way of direction for the guys, aside from tossing a box of white Christmas lights at Shane. “Hang those behind the drums, we’re gonna need an album cover and I have an idea.”

“Yes sir,” Shane said with a mocking salute.

Ryan handled the rest - he taped his boom mic to a light stand and set it up above Brent’s drum kit. His other two mics got taped to the edges of cardboard boxes in front of the amps, far back enough that the audio wouldn’t clip. Once they were all feeding into his laptop, and the string lights were hung up, he waved the guys to their instruments and sat on the couch in front of his laptop.

“Gimme a second,” he told them, opening up all the programs he would need. He started a new session, looked over at the band, and bit his lip while he thought about how best to do this. “Hey, Brent. Give me a couple beats on the bass drum.”

Brent did as Ryan asked, and Ryan was pleased to see it registered but didn’t clip. “Okay, and can you fuck around on the other drums? And the cymbals?”

One of the cymbals caused the levels to bump into the red, and Ryan got up to move the bootleg mic stand back a foot. “Once I’m sitting down, try that again,” he told him.

Brent’s mic was set, and Ryan repeated the process with the other two before he really settled in. He clicked a few times, typed in a file name, and sat back. “You guys are good. Go ahead.”

The band had made a list that morning - they were going to record twelve songs total, and they would do two takes of each at least. Ryan had nowhere to be that night, and he had a later call time than usual the following morning. He’d agreed to record everything without making them feel too rushed about it; art took time, and he respected that.

He’d promised to get it out into the world by Saturday. He wanted to have it uploaded on the internet before the show on Friday; if he did, Shane could mention it to the crowd, and hopefully they’d pick up a few sales.

Ryan knew, deep down, he wouldn’t be getting much sleep that night.

They took a break halfway through recording, but instead of getting up and stretching, Ryan started breaking up the audio file and organizing it into folders on his desktop. Shane came over and watched him work for a bit, a hand on his back as he did. He didn’t say anything - Ryan was very clearly in a zone, and he’d been told he was scary when he got to that place - but his hand was a comforting weight that helped a little of the tension drain from his limbs. Shane only spoke to him when he was getting up to prepare for the second half of the recording - “You’re really organized,” he’d said. “Watching you work is fascinating.”

The rest of the recording session went by smoothly, and by the time they finished, it was one in the morning - none of them had realized just how much time had passed. Ryan backed up the files before he shut down his laptop. “Alright we can, uh, dismantle this shit,” he said, motioning to all the various bootleg microphone stands they’d set up and the black cords that criss-crossed the space messily.

While the boys were taking them apart and coiling cords so they’d fit in Ryan’s bags, Ryan went over to Brent’s drum kit with the string lights hanging behind it. He took a few quick pictures with his phone.

“What do we think about the album name Brent’s Basement?” he asked, turning back and tucking his phone in his pocket. He picked up one of his cables and started wrapping it around his forearm. 

“I like that,” TJ said after a moment of thought. “Feels really right. This place has been our rehearsal space and home base since we became a band.”

“When you guys record your debut album, the Brent’s Basement demos will be the stuff of legend. The kind of thing that separates real fans from casuals.” Ryan smiled at Shane as he spoke, and Shane just shook his head.

“Yes, Ryan, you’ll get to be a hipster about us forever.  _ ‘Oh, I loved the Skeptics before it was cool.’ _ ” Like always, even though Shane was mocking, his voice was unmistakably fond. “You know, you’re assuming a lot of things about our success and the music industry.”

“You guys are too good not to succeed, I’m  _ telling _ you. It’s just a matter of time. Watch, it’ll happen.” He spoke with conviction; Ryan knew the world would love this band as much as he did. There was too much talent and too much heart for people to ignore. 

Zack smiled and took a drink from the water bottle he’d tucked under his keyboards. “Dude, I think Ryan’s officially our biggest fan.”

That made Ryan blush, and the guys laughed good-naturedly as he finished tucking his gear away.

The group dispersed slowly; Mark and Shane loaded Ryan’s gear into Shane’s car while Ryan finished packing up his laptop in his backpack. Zack headed home shortly after, and Mark and TJ left after that. Brent sent them all off with a wave, and he gave Ryan a quick bro-hug as he headed out. 

“Seriously, man. Thank you. This is the coolest thing we’ve ever done as a band.”

Ryan couldn’t stop smiling. “Of course, man, I’m happy I could do this for you guys. I’ll let you guys know when the website’s up and the album’s live.”

Brent nodded, but his face made it clear he still couldn’t really believe that this was really happening.

Shane’s hand found his as soon as they’d backed out of the driveway, and Ryan squeezed it as they drove off. “I’m gonna start editing when we get back to your place,” Ryan told Shane, fighting off a yawn. “Probably gonna make some coffee too. You don’t have to stay up if you’re tired.”

“I’ll stay up with you,” he said softly. “Just in case you need anything from the band. I’ll be a consultant on album art and stuff like that. Plus I have the band’s bank account information.” Shane pulled up to a red light and looked over at Ryan; the way he was staring was like he was trying to commit his face to memory. 

Every now and then, Ryan was violently reminded that their time was running out. It ached in a way he couldn’t really explain.

“Yeah, that’ll be useful,” he said softly, looking down at their hands clasped over the gearshift. “But seriously, don’t feel obligated to stay up. You have a long day ahead of you tomorrow.”

“So do you, Ry.” Shane swallowed hard and cleared his throat. “If I’m honest, I…” Whatever Shane wanted to say was clearly difficult for him; Ryan kept holding his hand, but he didn’t speak or press for the answer. Shane wasn’t the most forthcoming with his bigger emotions, and this was clearly something that was weighing on him. “I hate the idea of being in bed alone while you’re in my apartment. It’s one thing if you’re halfway across town, because I know, logically, we couldn’t be seeing each other. But if you’re in my apartment, and I’m sleeping in another room?” He took a deep breath as he slowed down for a yellow light. “Why would I do that? We have less than a week left before you leave, and that just seems like a waste of precious time.”

Shane’s logic hurt, but it made sense. Ryan would feel the same way if Shane was asleep in his bed on the other side of the wall - knowing that they could be together for a change, but not indulging in that. They had very few nights together remaining; Ryan wanted to be greedy and spend every single one with Shane. Now that he knew the feeling might be mutual, nothing would stop him from asking.

Ryan waited for the next red light before he used his free hand to turn Shane’s face toward him so he could kiss him. It was slow and gentle, but something underneath it simmered with more. It was a promise, an unspoken  _ I want you _ that Ryan hoped they’d have time to act on before he left. He didn’t want things to be rushed or less than perfect, but he knew that the time constraints around them might not allow for that.

Shane returned the kiss with just as much heat simmering behind it, and they got lost in each other until the only other driver on the road honked their horn behind them. Ryan jolted back and Shane looked up at the light, laughing as he noticed it had turned green.

“I’m gonna get arrested for distracted driving ‘cause of you. You’re a menace.” Shane’s blush was barely visible in the yellow glow of the streetlights overhead as they turned onto Shane’s street, but Ryan saw it and treasured it. “You think  _ ghosts _ are real, you kiss me like  _ that _ while I’m driving, you volunteer  _ hundreds of dollars _ worth of labor just because you like my  _ band,” _ he said, pulling into his building’s lot. “You’ve got fucking  _ abs. _ You’re ridiculous. I can’t stand you.”

Ryan laughed and leaned over to kiss him again before he shut off the car. “Sure you can’t, baby.”

Shane shivered a little at the pet name, and Ryan took note, tucking it away in the back of his mind for the future. 

They left the heavy bags of gear in Shane’s trunk - the expensive stuff was all in Ryan’s backpack, and that was coming up to Shane’s apartment with them. Shane led the way, and this time, Ryan was a little more prepared for all the stairs. They made it up in good time, and Ryan immediately squeezed past Shane to set up shop in the living room.

Shane busied himself with making coffee while Ryan plugged in his laptop and pulled his headphones out. As he waited for Audition to load, he kicked off his shoes and folded his legs underneath him; he was going to be working at this for a while, so he might as well be comfortable. He knew the position definitely looked odd, but Shane didn’t even make a comment when he brought out the mugs of coffee for them.

“If you wanna set up a bandcamp while I master and export all the files, you can. Y’know. Bank info and stuff.” Ryan rubbed his eyes under his glasses and sighed; he took a long sip of his coffee, savoring it. “I’ll make some band logo stuff after I’ve got the music uploading.”

Nodding, Shane got to work beside him, and Ryan slipped his headphones on so he could focus. He listened to each recording of each song twice, trying to find subtle differences and picking out which one sounded the best and the clearest. Once he’d picked out the twelve best versions, he ran them through a few processes to clean up the audio before exporting them to a flash drive. He kept sipping at his coffee when he could; the cup emptied faster than he wanted it to, but he was too in the zone to get up and make another. He’d just have to make do.

While the files were exporting, he opened up Photoshop, petting his laptop gently as the fan whirred to life. “I’ll be quick,” he promised it, opening up a blank banner and a square template. He sent the photo of the drum kit from his phone to his computer, and he picked out a font to layer over it. He kept the band name in all caps, and the font similar to messy handwriting. “What do you think?” he asked Shane, gently turning his laptop to the side.

Shane looked up from where he was filling out forms for the website and nodded. His glasses had slipped almost completely off his nose. “Yeah, that looks really great. I love the font,” he said. “It’s very us. You’ve got a good eye.”

With Shane’s blessing, Ryan made a simple banner, and then he saved the album art and the banner to the same flash drive.

He leaned into Shane’s side and closed his eyes for a few minutes, waiting for the chime that meant the processes he’d queued up had completed. He was tired, but the effort and the time this was taking was worth it; soon, Shane and the band would be one step closer to being able to have the band as their one job, achieving a dream they’d all written off for so long.

That thought kept him going until his laptop pinged and he sat back up.

“I’m gonna need your laptop,” he said softly, ejecting the flash drive and shifting closer to Shane. Shane placed it in his lap and he pulled the drive in. “This shouldn’t take too much longer.”

He was right: it didn’t. The files uploaded quickly, and he added a banner to the band’s page and the album art to the album. The website suggested a default price of eight dollars or more, and Shane deemed that reasonable, so they kept it.

With one click of a button, Brent’s Basement by the Skeptics was out in the world.

Ryan unlocked his phone and went to the band’s webpage, clicking on the album and hitting purchase. He changed the price to ten dollars, entered in all his information, gave himself a cute profile picture, and then showed Shane the receipt email.

Shane blinked himself awake, taking a few long moments to take in all the information Ryan was shoving in his face. Watching it dawn on him was beautiful.

Then Shane was surging forward, kissing Ryan like he needed it more than air, and Ryan’s noise of surprise died in his throat. All of the exhaustion left Ryan’s body immediately, and he pressed into the kiss with just as much hunger.

Ryan’s hands moved to Shane’s chest, and the silky fabric of his floral print shirt bunched and wrinkled as he gripped at it, pulling Shane closer. He shifted forward on the couch, tempted to sit in Shane’s lap; Shane made the decision for him and pulled him in by his hips. Ryan made a noise in the back of his throat as Shane’s long, deft fingers brushed up and under his shirt.

He pulled back to breathe, and Shane looked delightfully wrecked across from him.

“Bed?”

“Bed.”

The scramble to get up and get down the hall was so desperate it would have been embarrassing in any other scenario, but because it was mutual, it didn’t feel strange. Shane kept kissing Ryan while he walked him backwards, and Ryan tried his best to not trip or fumble because the kiss was so good. Shane’s hands were burning hot where they’d slipped under his t-shirt, his thumbs running against the defined line of muscle that lead into his pants. It was a reverent kind of touch, like Shane was in awe that he was allowed to. Ryan started to unbutton Shane’s shirt as they moved - or at least he tried to; his fingers fumbled as they moved together, never quite making progress.

Eventually Ryan was able to fall back into Shane’s bed, Shane toppling down on top of him. Like the last time he’d spent the night, the feeling of Shane’s weight on top of him was heady; he was vibrating with need and want and adoration, and he finally managed to get a few buttons on Shane’s shirt undone. Each one that slipped free made Shane shiver against him, and his hands slipped higher under Ryan’s shirt as he did. By the time his shirt was undone, his hands were lifting Ryan’s t-shirt up and over his head. They broke apart just long enough to toss it aside.

Ryan moved to shove Shane’s shirt off his shoulders, but Shane pulled back just a touch; it was barely a movement, but it was enough for Ryan to notice it, and he immediately slowed down. 

“Is this okay?” he asked softly, hands trailing down to rest on Shane’s pecs.

Shane took a few deep breaths before he nodded, eyes squeezed shut as he did. “I’m just not… as sculpted as you,” he admitted softly, like that made him undesirable in some way. Ryan shook his head a few times.

“Shane.” Ryan couldn’t think of how to tell Shane just how wrong he was about himself; he knew words would ring hollow, even though he knew he’d sound sincere about it. Instead of doing anything, he just brought Shane back down for a kiss. This one burned slower, the lust simmering beneath the surface, and his hands drifted down to Shane’s softer stomach.

The noise Ryan made - low and deep and uncontrolled - was genuine, and Shane shivered a bit in response.

Ryan’s kiss slowed down their actions, and the frantic nature ebbed away and was replaced by something almost tender. Ryan’s hands explored all of the new real estate opened up to him; Shane’s hands slipped down to the waistband of Ryan’s jeans and stayed there, slipping beneath the fabric every now and then. They no longer felt rushed - this was more important than a quick fuck, and they were both on the same page about that.

It was like their bodies knew exactly what the other needed - without words, they moved together and adjusted to make everything better. It had never been that good with anyone else in Ryan’s experience; there was always something awkward or fumbling about the first time. He had a feeling that even if something happened, it wouldn’t be weird - they’d laugh it off and fall back into the steady building rhythm of things. It was a comforting feeling.

Shane’s fingers dipped beneath Ryan’s waistband again and Ryan gasped as one of them brushed right above where his hard cock had settled, and Shane took that as the go-ahead he’d apparently been waiting for. He pulled back a bit and slowly, slowly undid the button on Ryan’s jeans, unzipping them fully; Ryan made a soft noise in his throat and closed his eyes as the pressure on his dick went away. When he opened his eyes again, Shane was smiling down at him.

Getting Ryan’s jeans off was a little bit of a struggle; they were tight and distressed, and as Shane pulled them down Ryan’s legs and off, his feet got stuck in the holes; Shane just huffed and Ryan laughed and together they worked to get them off. Ryan’s socks followed so he didn’t feel ridiculous, and then Shane’s big, delicate hands were moving up Ryan’s legs and settling on his thighs. “You’re so gorgeous,” he said softly, voice awed like Ryan was something special.

Ryan blushed and nudged at his hip with his knee. “Back at you, man.”

Shane laughed, breathy and overwhelmed as he leaned back down. “Please don’t call me ‘man’ when I’m doing my best to fuck you, Ry.”

Ryan’s comeback died in his throat, and he whimpered in truly pathetic fashion. “Okay,” was what he managed instead, and Shane moved down to kiss his neck with a smirk.

It wasn’t fair that Shane was still wearing his chinos, not when Ryan’s erection was extremely obvious in his boxer briefs. Ryan’s hands moved down, away from Shane’s chest, and tried to fumble with the button; his fingers kept slipping because he was trembling just slightly and Shane laughed before using one hand to undo the button himself. It was  _ his _ fault, after all, that Ryan’s body was buzzing with anticipation, sending all his nerves into overdrive.

Once the button was undone, Ryan was unzipping them and pushing them down and off of his hips. Gravity helped with the rest, and Shane pulled back from kissing his way down Ryan’s chest to get rid of them. Ryan stared; he couldn’t help it. There was a dark spot on his underwear, right where the tip of his dick was settled; they were tight and left nothing to the imagination, and Ryan almost choked. Shane was big - bigger than the other guy he’d slept with, and the only word he could think of to describe how he felt was  _ hungry. _

Apparently, that hunger translated into his expression, because Shane was back on him immediately and this kiss brought all the urgency back into play.

Less fabric between them made everything feel more intense; Ryan bucked his hips up and moaned when his dick brushed against the hard, hot length of Shane’s, and Shane’s hands fisted in the sheets beside Ryan’s shoulders. They were both so keyed up, Ryan was worried it would end before it even really began. 

Shane apparently shared that concern, and he pulled back and stepped away to rifle in a drawer for something. Ryan took the opportunity for a breather to center himself and force his body to calm down; when Shane turned back around, he was holding lube and a condom, and as he got back on the bed, he took a few shaky breaths.

“Is this… okay? We can… it doesn’t have to be me fucking you, we can…”

Ryan put one of his hands on Shane’s cheek and looked into his eyes. “I want you to fuck me,” he said honestly and earnestly, and Shane let out a breath before kissing him, sweet and soft and gentle.

“I’ll be so good to you, Ry.”

Ryan’s boxer briefs got thrown somewhere near his shirt, and then one of Shane’s big,  _ big _ hands was wrapping around his dick and he was moaning like he’d never been touched before this.

He’d had a thing for Shane’s hands from the moment he’d seen him, but it was something else entirely to have one touching him like this.

He pumped Ryan a few times before letting go, and Ryan threw an arm over his eyes while he tried to catch his breath. Shane chuckled a little, low in his throat, and spread Ryan’s legs further apart. For the first time that night, he felt exposed, and Shane’s fingers spreading him open made him shiver.

The cap of the lube clicked open, and the gross squishy noise of it being poured on Shane’s fingers was loud in the otherwise silent room. Ryan made a face, and that made Shane laugh - a real laugh this time; when he touched Ryan’s entrance, the lube had been warmed up to a comfortable temperature, and that fondness that always came with those little moments of consideration washed over him again.

Shane was patient and gentle as he opened Ryan up; Ryan had always been vocal in bed, and Shane seemed to learn very quickly how to interpret Ryan’s sighs and moans and whimpers. His fingers were long and delicate and skilled, just like Ryan had known they’d be, and part of him felt like ascending as the reality of the situation hit him.

By the time Shane had three fingers inside of him, he was rocking back against his hand, and Ryan felt that Shane knew he was ready. He’d shed his boxers at some point - maybe while Ryan was covering his eyes and trying to breathe properly - and he only pulled out when Ryan whimpered a few desperate “please”s.

The handful of moments Ryan was empty while Shane rolled on the condom and applied more lube felt like torture; he was keyed up beyond belief, and watching Shane didn’t help anything. For a split second, he was scared - could he even take Shane? - but then Shane was moving closer and leaning down to kiss him.

The feeling of being stretched around Shane felt like nothing he’d ever experienced before, and his eyes screwed shut as he moaned. It was comforting to feel Shane press his forehead to his, breathing shaky as he pushed in so, so slowly; knowing Ryan wasn’t the only one feeling like he was coming apart at the seams made everything better.

Ryan made Shane stop a few times so he could catch his breath - “it’s been a while” - and Shane listened, kissing at Ryan’s neck and chest and cheeks while he waited for the okay. Ryan felt loved, and that feeling swelled in his chest; it was too soon, but there was no other word for it, and when Shane was fully seated inside of him, it burst forth. Ryan pulled Shane into a tender kiss, and it lasted until Ryan felt like he was ready.

“I’m good,” he breathed, mouth flush against Shane’s. It felt dirty in the best way, and Shane shuddered a bit before he gathered himself together enough to start moving.

The first tentative thrust had both of them making plenty of noise; Shane’s grunt was deep and involuntary and sexy beyond belief. Ryan wrapped his arms around Shane’s neck and shoved one of his hands into his hair. 

Every now and then, Shane stopped and tried to pull himself together; Ryan appreciated that, even as he whined, because he wanted this to last so badly. Watching Shane’s self-restraint slowly, slowly break was beautiful; eventually, he picked up a steady rhythm and didn’t break it. All Ryan could do was hold on as Shane held his hips steady.

Shane hit that spot inside of him once, and Ryan nearly screamed; he covered his mouth with his arm, but Shane kept aiming for it, and he was reduced to constant whimpers. His pace was constant and unforgiving, and he moved one hand to wrap around his dick. The combination of sensations was  _ so _ much, and it didn’t take too much longer - Ryan fell apart, coming hard over his chest as Shane thrust a bit faster.

It was on the verge of being too much, Ryan too oversensitive, when Shane thrust hard twice and shuddered, groaning lowly against Ryan’s collarbone.

All of the intense feelings in Ryan’s chest bubbled over into giggles, and Shane pushed himself up on shaky arms and laughed with Ryan; he pulled out carefully and tied the condom off, tossing it in the trash before flopping down next to Ryan on the bed.

“Holy shit,” Ryan said softly, still a little giddy. “That was amazing.” The exhaustion from before was returning to his limbs tenfold, and an ache settled deep in his bones.

Shane’s hand sought out Ryan’s and took it in his. He turned his head to face Ryan, and he leaned forward to kiss Ryan’s cheek, head never leaving the pillow. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll cosign that.” He pressed his forehead to Ryan’s temple and hummed happily as his eyes fell closed. “‘M so fuckin’ tired, baby.”

Ryan sat up just enough to grab his t-shirt, ignoring the burn that made itself known, and he wiped his chest down - it would do until he had the energy to shower in the morning.

Sleep took him quickly, Shane snoring in his ear, hands still clasped between them on the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THIS CHAPTER COMES WITH COOL BONUS RESOURCES! i've been sitting on these since i made them the month i started posting.
> 
> [the skeptics' bandcamp](https://66.media.tumblr.com/a1fdbafa5563e2b9478fff02a96b5d49/dc1ad446a4b096b5-b4/s1280x1920/d9a7d3f8f9ea127537b4be81a7c4f3abc6b8ea0c.png)  
[brent's basement - ep cover](https://66.media.tumblr.com/691f2914295ea666bd8d6bab41ca93d1/7a483db8bb32499e-a3/s500x750/ebf252f25888869c110c6d59216897c54e697978.jpg)  
[brent's basement on spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0RilYp3uUsDtrcFHqi4o03?si=4T2mDYI7Sb272g-LsW_BeQ)
> 
> i love love loved doing this and i'll probably make a tumblr post to share these with a link to the fic but! enjoy! let me know your thoughts! love y'all!


	14. august 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys, gals, nonbinary pals, i have news: i finished this fic in its roughest form last night. it needs lots of editing and tlc, but as it stands, it rounds out at 72,000+ words. i'm in awe. i'm so glad i finished the skeleton and now get to go back and flesh it out and revise.
> 
> also, now that it's done, anyone who was worried about it getting abandoned (and man, we've all been burned by wips) can rest easy. the hard part is done, the fun part is just getting started, and i have no plans of leaving y'all high and dry.
> 
> this chapter is unbeta-ed, and it comes with another [playlist!](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0FpoqqmSMrECuVyo9NMOj1?si=U_7R_tY4QAyF_9z-sPY0FA)
> 
> enjoy, friends.

The energy on set was intensely positive on Friday - even when Ryan showed up ten minutes late looking exhausted and limping slightly, Peretti wasn’t too harsh. Curly gave him a look from across the set, and Ryan just waved him off.  _ I’ll tell you at lunch, _ he mouthed, and Curly nodded.

“All I wanna know is if he’s just as long where it matters,” Curly said in lieu of a greeting as he found Ryan at catering, and Ryan choked on the fry he’d been holding in his mouth.

Once he caught his breath, and Curly stopped laughing, he nodded. “Yeah.”

“Nice.”

He sat with Jen and Curly and Andrew at their table, eating his burger and thinking about how good it would be to be back in the land of In-N-Out; as Steven sat down next to Andrew and handed him something off his plate, Curly cleared his throat.

“I propose a toast to our boy Ryan Bergara,” he said, voice formal in a way that screamed  _ danger _ to Ryan’s brain. “He totally got laid last night. I didn’t think it was gonna happen before we all left.”

Ryan put his drink down and covered his face with his hands while Steven and Jen burst into laughter. “I hate you so much, Curly,” he mumbled into his palms, but Curly pushed on.

“To Ryan.” Curly raised his soda, and Jen and Steven - traitors - raised theirs as well. Andrew didn’t entertain the bit, and Ryan wanted to tell him he loved him. “And his tall, handsome man.”

“Hear hear!”

Ryan groaned and pushed his hair back from his face. “I hate all of you except Andrew.”

Andrew straightened up in his seat and smirked, smug.

“And you’re all uninvited to the bar tonight.”

“Wait wait wait, no no. I wanna go.” Curly was one step away from pouting, and Ryan gave him a look. “I’ll take back everything I just said.”

Ryan pointed at him with a french fry. “You already made the toast, dude, you can’t undo that.”

Of course, by the time the day ended and the gear was packed up, Curly and Jen were still headed to the Innertown with him, Andrew, Devon, and Steven. It was their last weekend in Chicago, and they had all agreed they’d rather spend it listening to a friend’s band than going to any other bar in the city. The fact that they all considered Shane a friend warmed Ryan’s heart; just like he’d slotted into the band’s little group, Shane had slotted into his. 

The Innertown was bustling by the time they arrived; a lot of the other members of the crew had worked their way down, kicking off a bar crawl with Ryan’s third favorite place in the city. He raised his hand to say hello to a bunch of the people he knew, but he kept to himself as he pushed through to grab the table they’d sat at the last time they’d all come together. “No tequila shots this time,” he said, and Steven shrugged.

He really needed friends who made better decisions.

Kelsey appeared to take their orders, and this time Jen was a little more at ease, teasing a little bit as they bantered quietly before she ordered her drink. Ryan felt a swell of pride; Jen had become his little sister in their time working together, and he wanted her to be as happy as he currently was. There was no guarantee that would be with Kelsey, but gaining confidence while talking to pretty women was growth and progress for his favorite little disaster lesbian.

By the time Kelsey made it back with their drinks - and no tequila shots, thankfully - the band were entering through the back door, and Shane looked around the room as he headed over to the stage. His eyes settled on Ryan with a warmth he could feel, and he dropped his guitar off before coming over to their table. He crossed over to Ryan’s seat, leaning in to kiss him with a hand on the back of his chair.

The kiss lingered; they knew this was the last show Ryan would be at. They wanted to make the most of it and have everything finish on a high note.

“Hi,” Shane said quietly as he pulled back enough to speak but not far enough to be out of Ryan’s personal space. “I’m glad you brought the whole crew. It’s our last hurrah.”

Ryan could feel his face fall, and Shane kissed his forehead. “I didn’t mean to bring that up, I swear. I just want… we want to send you guys off with a bang.” Shane’s eyes looked wet with unshed tears, and Ryan had to choke back some of his own. Devon took Ryan’s hand where it was laying on the table and squeezed it.

It took him a few long moments to compose himself enough to speak. “I… really don’t wanna cry tonight, guys. I fuckin’ hate big goodbyes.”

Andrew nodded, looking away as Ryan reached up to wipe his face, and Devon just squeezed his hand harder. Shane wrapped his arm around him and tugged him into his chest; he kissed Ryan’s hair once, and he kept his face buried in Ryan’s hair for a bit. 

Ryan’s therapist never told him anticipation of loss got worse the closer the expiration date got.

TJ called for Shane gently from across the room, and Ryan felt his chest rise and fall with a sigh as Shane let him straighten up. “I’m being summoned,” he told him; he leaned in for one last kiss, savoring it before he stepped back and out of Ryan’s bubble. “I’ll see you guys after the show.”

Jen reached out, across the table, and put her hand on top of Devon’s. “Love you, Ry.”

He had to put his head down in his arms for a few minutes to collect himself, and if his eyes were a little redder when he sat back up, his friends were kind enough to not point it out.

Shane didn’t do any introduction for the band - they just started playing their first song of the night, something slow and melancholy-sounding, and when Shane started singing, his voice was longing. It was a sad song, and Ryan realized Shane picked it for the set list because it fit the mood of the night itself.

No one aside from the people at their table and the people on the stage seemed to pick up on that, though.

It was a beautiful song, truly, even though it broke Ryan’s heart in two, and when it ended, Ryan’s table clapped the loudest. Steven whistled loud enough that the people next to him glared, and Shane smiled a little at that. “Thanks,” he said into the mic, looking around the bar. “We’re the Skeptics, hope you enjoy the rest of the show.”

Their next song was also slow and a little melancholy, with more piano but a little bit more of an upbeat tempo. Shane didn’t sound so sad as he sang, even though the lyrics were far from happy. The song itself sort of meandered along, and Ryan loved it; part of him wanted to go up and ask Shane why they hadn’t recorded that for the demos, because it was so beautiful.

Everyone at the table seemed transfixed - no one wanted to talk over the music; everyone knew it was probably the last time they’d hear the Skeptics live, with the exception of Jen, who had already told Ryan she’d be coming back every now and then so she could Facetime him from the bar while the Skeptics played. 

It wouldn’t be the same, but it was something, and that was enough for Ryan.

The pretty song ended, and Ryan clapped as hard as he could. Shane looked up and looked at him and froze for a moment; their eye contact felt weighty, and Shane stepped away from the mic. TJ stepped over to talk to him for a moment, and Shane just nodded a few times. He stepped aside as TJ took center stage.

“Okay, uh. This next one,” TJ said awkwardly, fiddling with his guitar and moving his capo off the fret board. “This next one I wrote. So I’ll be singing it. It’s, um. It’s called Overachiever. So.”

TJ started strumming. Because he’d taken the lead and offered to sing one of his songs, even though the way he kept shifting his weight from foot to foot betrayed how nervous he was, Shane was able to stay back and focus on the music; he blinked rapidly a few times, and Ryan hoped it was allergies or something in his eye or anything but Shane being on the verge of tears. Shane crying in public would be too much for his heart to handle.

Devon was nodding along next to Ryan, enjoying the song, and Steven joined along. Their whole table ended up grooving to the music, and TJ noticed - his voice got more confident after that, and he took up a little more space on the stage in a good way. All he needed was the vote of confidence they provided.

Zack handled singing most of the harmonies so Shane could stay hidden by Brent’s drum kit, and his voice sounded great. He leaned into his new role as primary harmony, and he too seemed a little bit bigger. After this, Shane would have to be proud of his bandmates for stepping up and crushing it when they did.

The song ended and the bar erupted in applause; Ryan snuck a quick picture of TJ’s face as he beamed out at the crowd and sent it to the Skeptics group chat they’d added him into after the recording session. “Thank you so much everybody,” TJ said, still smiling as the applause died down. “Uh, just to let you guys know, someone very near and dear to us helped up record our first ever album.” Brent hit his cymbals a few times as the bar clapped, Kelsey and Joyce screaming above the applause. “Yeah, he’s great,” TJ continued, nodding towards the bar. “So if you like us tonight, you can go on bandcamp and just search up the Skeptics. We’ll be on there and you can take us with you wherever you go.”

Ryan looked around - Kelsey was standing off to the side on her phone, doing something and looking around to be sure she wouldn’t get caught. No one else around them seemed to be looking for their music, but Ryan knew it wouldn’t be instantaneous growth. It would take time. 

Getting their music out there would happen, and then maybe they’d find a way to get out to a label on the west coast.

Steven, however, was pulling up their bandcamp at the table while the band started playing another song. “Ry, was this all you?” he asked, scrolling down their band page. “It looks fantastic.”

“Yeah, we did it yesterday.” Ryan sipped at his beer and shrugged. “They’re just… they’re good. They deserve to be successful.”

“Wait, is that why you and Shane…”

“No, Curly. Jesus. We did that ‘cause we’re into each other and it was our one chance.”

Curly gave him a look but picked up his phone, pulling up the website as well. Jen followed suit, and within minutes, most everyone at Ryan’s table had purchased the album. 

“Friends support friends,” Jen said seriously, watching the app download slowly on the crappy public WiFi she’d found.

“Yeah, for real. You recorded all this shit and produced it and that’s not even your area of expertise. And you’re not even making money off it. You’re literally just doing it ‘cause you’re a good person.” Curly patted Ryan on the shoulder a few times. “Us supporting this is literally the least we can do.”

“Plus, they’re honestly pretty good for a white boy indie band.”

“Oh my god.”

Andrew laughed and Devon joined him, and their table dissolved into giggles for a little bit. The tension from earlier in the night lifted, and the somber mood dissipated; it felt like just another night out with friends, not some final celebration before a big ending. They laughed and cheered and swayed to the music, and the Innertown felt like home one last time.

They didn’t overdo it with the drinking this time, thankfully. Everyone stayed mostly sober and Kelsey kept coming by with water; Jen kept chatting with her and while it wasn’t quite flirting, it was still something. They were hitting it off, at the very least.

“Okay, folks, this is going to be our last song tonight,” Shane said after another softer number. “We’re the Skeptics, we’re online if you wanna support us, thanks for comin’ out. This one’s for Ryan Bergara.”

Ryan turned bright red as Curly shoved at his shoulder and Shane just  _ winked _ at him from the stage.  _ What the fuck, _ he mouthed at him, and he shrugged while they played the intro.

_ “I’m so cool, too bad I’m a loser,” _ Shane sang, and that got Andrew and Curly laughing. 

“Is he singing this about you?”

“I don’t fuckin’ know! He didn’t tell me this was gonna happen!”

_ “I’m so brave, too bad I’m a baby,” _ and Shane winked at him again. Ryan flipped him off, and when Shane finished the first verse, he had to step away to laugh.

The song was insanely catchy, Ryan had to give them that. Devon was filming them from her seat, and Ryan hated that he ended up watching Shane fondly even though he was relatively sure his boyfriend was making fun of him in front of a bar full of people. 

_ “ _ _ It's so strange, I can't believe it feels just like I'm falling for the first time.”  _ Shane’s voice got warmer there, and his gaze settled right back on Ryan. There was something deeply affectionate about it - they were right back to that place, that almost-love, and Ryan felt warm all over. It was nice, and he focused on that instead of the sadder things that loomed in the back of his mind. 

Ryan wanted to look over at Zack, who was playing a pretty intense part on the piano, but as the bridge started, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Shane.  _ “Anyone perfect must be lying, anything easy has its cost. Anyone plain can be lovely, anyone loved can be lost.” _ He kept singing, but those four lines rattled around in Ryan’s brain.

Shane was much better at lyrics than Ryan had ever given him credit for; these ones in particular were going to haunt him the way that Adam’s Song by blink-182 had in high school. They were weighty and powerful and smart and snappy - they weren’t something Ryan would’ve thought a bar’s house band would write. 

The first time he’d come here, the Skeptics had surprised him. It was only fitting that they’d do it one last time on his last night at one of their shows.

The song ended and Ryan cheered loudly, getting up to head to the stage; he wasn’t waiting for Shane this time, and Shane seemed happy for it. He hopped off the stage and, guitar between them, he pulled Ryan into a kiss, both of his hands cradling his face like it was precious.

Ryan melted into the kiss, and he let Shane decide when to break it. He was standing on his tiptoes and it was hardly comfortable, but it was worth it to be kissing Shane like this; when they broke apart, Shane’s grin was full and bright and Ryan fell a little bit harder. He wondered idly when he’d fall completely - it never seemed realistic to him that people didn’t realize they were in love until the L-word was falling from their lips in a moment of warmth or passion. How could you not know?

But every day, every moment, brought him closer, and he kind of felt like he was starting to really understand.

“So I take it you liked the song,” Shane said, a little breathless as he stood there, smiling down at Ryan and holding his face like he was precious.

Ryan had to laugh, and it was loud and full when he did. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Good,” Shane said, leaning down to kiss him again. “Cool. I feel like one of these days you’re gonna get sick of me writing songs for you.”

“Never in a million years, dude. This is the most flattering shit.”

Shane brushed his thumb over Ryan’s cheek once before backing up, hands falling down to his guitar so he could lift it off. “I gotta pack up, but uh, Joyce said we can push another table together with yours so we can join you,” he said a little sheepishly. “Figured we might as well make tonight a party. Kate’s on her way too.”

That almost nostalgic feeling returned again, and Ryan nodded as he stepped away. By the time he got back to where his friends were all gathered, Kelsey and Jen were helping Brent roll another table over to join theirs. TJ followed with a couple chairs, and as soon as the table was in place, Kelsey and Brent went back for more. Ryan’s two worlds, which had been unintentionally kept so separate just by the nature of weird schedules, were fusing together in front of him, and as Kate sat down and introduced herself to his work friends, things slotted together beautifully.

Ryan appreciated it, savored it, and pushed away that nagging feeling of this being a goodbye party for him.

Shane was the last to join them, and Devon immediately moved seats to sit between TJ and Brent; Shane tipped his bottle towards her in acknowledgement and thanks, and he hopped up to sit with Ryan, an arm slung around the back of his chair. Ryan leaned into his side and stared at his beer bottle, rolling it around idly on the tabletop.

His friends chattered around him, but he was stuck deep in his own head; Shane’s hand settled on his shoulder, and his thumb rubbed against the fabric of his shirt while he laughed at a story Curly was telling. Ryan should have been enjoying the easy camaraderie between all of his favorite people that he’d discovered here in Chicago, but instead his brain was eating him alive: what were they going to do after this? Would Devon and Jen keep in touch like they promised to? Would the band remember him in six months’ time? If the band got bigger, would they want to remember Ryan? Would  _ Shane? _

“You’re thinking too hard,” Shane told him gently, voice low and close to his ear. He could feel each puff of breath as Shane spoke. “Come back to Earth, Ry.”

Shane’s voice and that gentle, soothing touch on his shoulder grounded him, and Ryan took it as a lifeline, something to grab onto to help him claw his way out of the anxiety pit his brain had dragged him into. It worked, and it felt almost like resurfacing after holding his breath underwater; the background chatter of the bar flooded back in, and then Jen’s boisterous laugh as Andrew finished telling a story about Steven that had Steven groaning dramatically. Shane chuckled beside him, and his laughter shook Ryan where he was leaning against him.

When everyone else was otherwise distracted - Zack was talking about a girl he’d been talking with online, giving everyone a chance to razz him or congratulate him as they saw fit - Ryan kissed Shane’s cheek gently. “Thanks,” he mumbled against his scruff. “You’re the best.”

Shane’s smile was small and soft and meant just for Ryan.

As the night wore on and last call got closer, the conversation got a little more somber. It was Kate who asked the question Ryan was dreading: “What happens after this for you guys?”

Everyone looked at Ryan, like he’d become some sort of agreed-upon de facto leader somehow, and he floundered - there was too much attention on him at once, including Shane’s almost-piercing stare. He knew he and Shane needed to talk, but he didn’t want to do it someplace as public as this. There was an unspoken, open invitation to Shane’s apartment that Ryan had planned on taking advantage of, giving them the opportunity to lay it all out on the line.

He wasn’t about to say “I want to keep dating Shane, even if I’m half a world away” in front of all of their closest friends, especially when there was no guarantee Shane would feel the same way.

“Uh,” he started, staring at the rings of water on the table. “Um. I gotta get a job somewhere that’s not, like, freelancing and stuff. There are some places I got applications in at,” he said, shrugging. “Figure if I get a job that pays me pretty well and has me working consistently I can travel a little more. Maybe come back and visit sometimes.”

“Please,” Jen pleaded, reaching out to touch his hand. “You’re not allowed to stay away forever.”

Ryan didn’t expect Shane to say anything; open emotions were never his thing, and Shane had established that several times over. Ryan respected that, even when his emotions were plain on his own face and he was desperate to know things were reciprocated and his feelings were validated. But he didn’t think Shane would do that here in such a public setting.

“Yeah, Ry,” Shane said softly, voice desperate around the edges as he tugged him a little closer. “I’m with Jen on this one. Staying away forever is… I’m gonna say it’s illegal.”

He knew he was gaping, but he couldn’t help it. Shane was looking at him, soft and genuine with his emotions clear as day on his face. There was longing, and fear, and that almost-love-but-not-yet Ryan felt himself.

“Obviously, if you can’t afford to fly out, that’s… that’s an exception. But. You can’t just-- you can’t disappear after making all of us--” Shane took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “It’s not fair if you all leave for good after making all of us fall in love with your personalities.” That second part Shane directed at all of them - Curly was covering his mouth with one hand, and Andrew was just nodding.

Ryan knew, though, what Shane was really saying - that it wasn’t fair of him to leave forever after rocking Shane’s world to the core.

“Don’t worry,” he told Shane, tone light and easy - the serious stuff would come later. “I’m definitely comin’ back as often as I can. There’s a band I really like I’m gonna wanna catch in concert a few times.”

Shane laughed a little, and the weird tension around the table dispersed easily. “You’re the worst,” he said; it was so fond it could have been  _ I love you. _

Ryan laughed, and he took another drink from his bottle.

***

Obi meowed happily when Shane unlocked the door, and he hopped down off the couch to greet them as they shuffled in, tired and full and happy; Steven had dragged them out for late night Korean food, and they’d all eaten just this side of too much; Ryan felt like he could sleep for a year. Shane leaned down to scratch behind Obi’s ears as Ryan shut the door behind them. “Hi, buddy,” he said softly. “Don’t worry. There won’t be a lot of late nights soon,” he promised, and Ryan’s chest ached again.

“Shane,” he started, kicking off his shoes by the door. “Can we, uh. Can we talk?”

Ryan could see Shane tense where he was crouched down, and he straightened up slowly. “Is it so serious we can’t be in bed while we talk?” he asked, turning around to look at Ryan. “Because I’m exhausted. I know we need to talk, but nothing says we can’t be horizontal while we do.”

He had a point; Ryan took his hand and pulled him towards his bedroom, and Shane adjusted their hands so their fingers interlocked, even though the walk wasn’t far at all.

Once they’d settled down between the sheets, Ryan’s head on Shane’s chest, their legs tangled together, Shane took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

Ryan wanted to laugh - it felt ridiculous to be nervous about the outcome when they were wrapped up in each other like this, but he still was. It took him a few minutes of silence before he found the words he wanted to use.

“Are we going to break up when I leave?”

Shane’s hand, which had been rubbing gentle circles on Ryan’s bare back, stuttered for a second. His breath caught in his throat, and he swallowed hard. Ryan catalogued all of these little tells in his mind before Shane spoke.

“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”

There was a lot hidden in that answer, and Ryan was quiet while he digested it all. It was an easy out for Ryan - he could easily say that he had, and that he thought it was best, and go off on a long-winded explanation about how being exclusive while thousands of miles apart just didn’t make sense. But it was also a revelation: Shane had thought, or just assumed, that they’d be staying together, that they’d be doing it long distance and dealing with how much that sucked some other time. 

Ryan smiled to himself and shifted up to his elbows so he could look down at Shane. His hair had flopped back onto the pillow, and even though he looked tired, he looked more handsome than ever.

“Neither had I,” Ryan said, biting his lip. “Well, that’s a lie - I’ve been thinking about it a lot, but in a bad way, like you were gonna say you wanted to and I was gonna go home even more heartbroken but I was really hoping that wouldn’t be the ca--”

Shane, who had been smiling incredulously while Ryan rambled, cut him off with a kiss, and Ryan relaxed back down against him.

They still needed to discuss details, but for now, this would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> toss a comment or a kudo to your writer and have a lovely, lovely valentine's day.


	15. august 29th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow i can't believe we're in the home stretch of this fic i'm in awe
> 
> this is unbeta-ed (if you see an error, please call it out so i can correct it!) and it doesn't have a playlist. it is, however, the chapter i cried the hardest writing until the epilogue.
> 
> enjoy, folks.

Wednesday was a bittersweet day; there was a small sendoff party, organized by Devon, on set as the local crew said their goodbyes to the Los Angeles contingent. It wasn’t anything crazy, but it was sweet, and there were lots of tears shed; Ryan had just held Jen for a little bit, crying into her snapback unashamedly. “You better fuckin’ look into moving west,” he told her, sniffling and clearing his throat in an attempt to get his voice to sound less thick. “I’m tellin’ you. You can live on my couch ‘til you find a roommate or whatever.”

“You already sold me on it, Ry, I’m gonna,” she admitted. “Just give me a little time to fix shit here and make sure I got the money.” She wiped at her cheeks roughly, stepping away from their hug. “I gotta… fuck, I gotta say goodbye to everyone else. Fuck you for making me so emotional right away.”

“Fuck you for doing that to me too,” Ryan teased, and for a moment they could pretend this wasn’t their real goodbye.

Ryan thought he’d been cried out by the time he headed back to his apartment to pack - he’d been wrong, though, because when he got out of his Uber he noticed Shane sitting on his stoop, his backpack at his feet, looking as gorgeous and classy as ever in a black button up and nice pants. The tears came back full force.

Shane pulled him into a hug and they stayed there, standing outside in the early evening, cicadas buzzing in the trees that lined the street, holding each other. Ryan didn’t know how he could keep shedding tears, but Shane held him through it, waiting until Ryan was just sniffling before he wiped his cheeks off and pulled him into a kiss.

“I thought I could help you pack,” he said softly, and even though his eyes were dry, Ryan could hear the tears hiding just under the surface of his voice. “And I, uh. I’m gonna drive you to the airport tomorrow,” he continued, pointing up the street - Ryan hadn’t seen it until then, but his car was parked a little ways away. “And I assumed I could stay here tonight. If that’s okay with you.”

It was the least put-together Ryan had ever heard Shane sound; his normal confident air was gone entirely, but he could only find it heartwarming and endearing. “Of course.” Ryan wanted to make a joke, or say something witty to bring their banter forward, but he couldn’t think of anything. “C’mon, I got… there’s a lot I have to get done before tomorrow.”

Ryan led him up the stairs, guiding Shane by the hand; there was no escaping it now - Ryan would be gone by two in the afternoon the next day, and that was it for the foreseeable future for them. Every second mattered, and physical contact was easy and reassuring and something they’d be missing sooner rather than later.

Their hands stayed clasped even as Ryan fumbled for his keys in his pocket and unlocked his door for the last time.

His apartment was sparse - a basic studio with a bed and a kitchen and a bathroom. He’d lived out of his suitcases since he’d arrived; it had started as a convenient thing, since he wouldn’t be around for more than a couple months, and he’d brought enough clothes to only need to do laundry once every couple of weeks. There was no reason to get settled. Even as the shoot got delayed over and over again, he’d never gotten out of the habit.

Now, his suitcases were overflowing with unfolded clothing, messy and bulky and in desperate need of organization. “I’d say sorry about how this looks but, y’know, I don’t think either of us care right now.”

Shane put his backpack on the floor by Ryan’s bed, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t give a fuck. You don’t really have a lot of real estate to…  _ live _ in.” 

“Yeah, that’s why I never invited you up. My apartment is my bedroom.” Ryan sat down on his floor to start rifling through the mountains of fabric in his suitcases - he pulled a pair of soft grey joggers out and sniffed them, deeming them acceptable, and then dove back in to find his favorite purple t-shirt. He wanted to look cute for Shane tomorrow, since it was their last day together, but he also wanted to be comfortable on his flight. Sacrifices would have to be made. 

“Am I allowed to help with the laundry situation? Or should I look around for other shit you need to pack?” Shane had been standing awkwardly by Ryan’s bed, waiting for instructions, and Ryan looked at the suitcases in front of him.

“Yeah, you better help with this or it’s never gonna get done.”

Shane sat beside him, close enough that their knees were touching, and together they unloaded all of the clothes into one big heap between the suitcases on the floor. Piece by piece, they uncrumpled each item of clothing, army rolling it and tucking it neatly away. 

Ryan was going to comment on owning too many t-shirts when he noticed Shane being a moment away from army-rolling his Lebron jersey.

“No!” he shouted, hand shooting out to grip Shane’s wrist. “No.”

Shane looked at him, a little amused, and he chuckled. “No?”

“That doesn’t get rolled. That gets… put that aside, we’ll put it in last.”

His expression clearly said he thought Ryan was crazy, but he listened and did what he said anyway, laying it flat behind them. “I’m not saying I get it,” he admitted. “But I can respect the… traditions or what have you that come with having a jersey.”

“It’s not tradition or superstition or anything like that,” Ryan told him as he rolled up a pair of boxers, suddenly grateful he’d done laundry the other day. “It’s literally just… that cost me almost two hundred dollars. The lettering might bend if you roll it. I wanna keep it nice.”

“That was two hundred dollars?”

“Jerseys are expensive, man.” Ryan shrugged, thinking of the fifteen jerseys he had in his closet back home. “It’s not just in basketball, it’s every sport. I’m pretty sure it’s a licensing thing.”

Shane looked at him. “Yeah, I’m not ever gonna understand.”

Ryan wheezed and rolled his eyes; just like that, their easy banter and bickering returned. The methodical nature of rolling up all his clothes and packing it made it easy to talk about the same dumb stuff they texted about all the time. They bickered about the likelihood of Mothman existing (“he doesn’t and I don’t need to explain why, Ryan. It’s obvious.” “We don’t know everything, Shane! There could be interdimensional beings that squeal like  _ eeeeeeee.” _ “Oh my god, never make that noise again, please, holy  _ shit.”) _ and about how much money was too much to spend on a single item of clothing (“I’d max out at thirty dollars for a t-shirt, and that’s just because I do enjoy getting a concert shirt when I go to shows.” “For a plain t-shirt? I’m gettin’ the three pack at WalMart, dude.” “You spent  _ two hundred dollars _ on a Lakers shirt.” “It’s a  _ jersey,  _ Shane.”).

It didn’t hit Ryan again how final this all was until all his clothes were packed neatly and Shane was laying back on his floor, all long limbs and tempting smiles. 

“I’m really gonna fuckin’ miss this,” he said quietly, standing up and cracking his back before offering Shane a hand. “We should order dinner. One last date night, just… this time it’s a night in.”

Shane took Ryan’s hand and let Ryan hoist him up - it wasn’t hard, Shane was light - before he spoke. “Yeah. One last romantic night in with you sounds pretty perfect.”

Ryan changed into a baggy t-shirt and loose basketball shorts while he ordered delivery from a nearby diner - they didn’t hold back, getting a bunch of food that sounded good instead of just choosing one or two things like reasonable adults. Shane paced around the limited space, moving Ryan’s gear over by his suitcases and tossing any other odds and ends there as well; Ryan stopped him just to kiss him. “Thanks for lookin’ out.”

“Always, baby.”

Shane grabbed the food when it arrived, and they spread their feast out on Ryan’s bed; Ryan perched his laptop safely by the end of the bed, centered between them so they could watch old horror movies on Netflix while they ate. Ryan jumped at every little thing, despite having seen them all a million times before, and Shane laughed every time.

“Shut up, Shane.”

“Hey! I just thought you might be better at handling this kind of thing considering you love it!”

Ryan just laughed and breathed out an “I hate you so much” and grabbed another chicken wing.

After they cleaned up all the food - and Shane promised to take home the leftovers - Ryan got in bed and checked into his flight. He’d been stuck with a window seat, but he’d at least have something to look at for the five or so hours he’d be trapped on the plane. Checking in sucked; Shane slid into bed behind him and watched him do it, an arm draped across his stomach that instinctively pulled him a bit closer as he confirmed that he’d be leaving in less than twenty-four hours. It was a simple act, but paired with the emotional weight of the day, it was enough to exhaust him, and he settled back into bed with a heavy sigh.

“Long distance is gonna  _ suck, _ Shane.”

“I know.” Shane was mumbling into Ryan’s hair; he pressed kisses right above his ear every now and then. “Trust me. I  _ know. _ I’ve gotten spoiled.”

Ryan looked down at Shane’s big hand splayed on his chest, and he placed his own over it, slipping his fingers in between Shane’s. “If it ends up being too much for you, we don’t have to keep going.” It made his chest ache to say that, but he did mean it. “There’s really no point in dragging something out if someone’s miserable, y’know?”

Shane huffed out a breath against Ryan’s scalp. “You’re right, but I need to point out - I’m going to be miserable anyway, because my boyfriend’s going to be halfway across the country. I’m not going to be miserable because it sucks that I can’t date anyone else. Ryan, I…” He paused, and Ryan didn’t push, just like every other time. They’d learned the rhythms and patterns of being friends and fixtures in each other’s lives so quickly - Shane was one of his best friends now, and that was something he’d admit openly. He considered himself so lucky to have this friendship; if they sacrificed this blossoming something to preserve that when he left, he’d be okay with it in time. 

“Ryan, I don’t want to date anyone else,” Shane told him. The words sounded almost choked out, like admitting it out loud made Shane nervous. “I want you. That’s it. I’m good waiting for you to come back to visit because there’s no one else in Chicago that could compare to you.”

Ryan felt his eyes start to burn, and he couldn’t bring himself to look up at Shane. He’d start crying immediately, and he didn’t want to do that right now.

“So yeah. We’ll be sad and we’ll have to put up with phone calls and… and Facetime and living with a time difference. But if my other choice is not having you? Fuck that.”

He started crying anyway, and Shane pulled him into his chest, pressing himself up against him from behind. “Once school starts, I’ll have a little more disposable income. I can fly out to LA for a week in the winter. And you can come visit me in the summer. We’ll make this work, Ryan.”

All Ryan could do was nod, rolling over so he could face Shane and tuck his face against his neck; he finally cried himself out, and he just wanted to breathe in Shane and focus on how good this felt.

“You need to sleep, baby.” One of Shane’s hands came up to thread through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp, and if Ryan had been a cat, he would have purred. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

***

Ryan woke up to the sound of the microwave beeping, and he sat up, confused and squinting against the sunlight coming in the window. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” Shane said softly, and Ryan turned towards the kitchen where Shane was reheating the takeout from the night before for breakfast. He looked soft and sleep-rumpled, hair sticking up all over, glasses sitting high on his nose. 

It hit him then, that the almost-love he’d been thinking about for a while had progressed. Looking at Shane, blurry as he was without Ryan’s glasses, made it click: he was a little bit in love with Shane Madej.

The knowledge was comforting, and when Shane came back to bed, he kissed his cheek.

“What’s that for?”

“Just ‘cause.”

Shane let Ryan steal a few chicken wings from his plate, and they ate in silence; everything felt somber and heavy and it was clear neither of them knew what to do with that. Shane showed him a picture that Brent had sent him of his mom listening to their demos on her phone, and Ryan smiled.

“If you look this sad all day, Ry, I’m not gonna make it through dropping you off.”

Ryan gave Shane a look, and Shane sighed.

“Yeah, you’re right. This… this is going to test me.”

Ryan showered and got dressed first, and while Shane was showering, he packed up the last of his clothes and various other things that Shane had stacked on his suitcases.

He was in the middle of one last once-over of the apartment when Shane emerged, wearing a black and red flannel and nicely fitted jeans, and Ryan immediately felt like a scrub in his comfy old t-shirt and joggers. Ryan couldn’t help himself - he stared. Shane looked good.

“I want you to remember me at my best,” Shane said after a few moments of quiet staring. He shifted, a little uncomfortable, and Ryan blinked and looked away, a blush blooming on his cheeks. “Not that… it’s not like you’re not going to see me for six months, it’s… I just want you to remember this with something positive to hold onto.”

“This is… definitely a positive,” Ryan said, nodding a few times. “I… wow. I…” He paused and swallowed hard. “Have I told you how hot you are?”

Shane choked. “Not… not in so many words, no.”

“Because you are. And I’ve thought that since the first time I saw you. I don’t know why I haven’t told you that. It’s honestly fucking distracting.” Ryan ran a hand through his hair and shrugged, turning away to fiddle with his suitcases. “Your hands, man.”

That got a laugh out of Shane, and he came over to help pick his suitcases up and set them upright. “That’s… not what I expected you to call hot.”

“They are. But I’m not gonna get into it now, ‘cause I gotta be out of this place by noon and if I get into it? We’re gonna end up in bed and I’m gonna end up screwed out of a ton of money ‘cause I gotta pay for an extra day.”

It took four trips to get all of Ryan’s bags down safely and into Shane’s sedan. They loaded his personal camera gear into the trunk, and his couple huge suitcases into the backseat with his stuffed backpack and his smaller carry-on. Ryan shrugged on a hoodie that hadn’t fit in his backpack, and he headed upstairs for one last once-over.

It felt surreal, looking at the place he’d called his for the past few months and seeing it so devoid of any sign he’d been there. “Bye,” he said softly, leaving the key on the counter and letting the door lock behind him.

By the time he got back to Shane’s car, Shane had already gotten in and hooked up his phone to the stereo. “You’re flying out of O’Hare, right?” he asked, tapping a few times and letting a playlist start up as Ryan buckled his seatbelt. 

“Yeah.”

“Alright. We’re less than an hour away, so. You’ll make it with plenty of time for security.” Shane looked over at him. “I’d hate for you to miss your flight because of me.”

Shane couldn’t keep his straight face, and as his smile started to crack through, Ryan laughed and leaned against the door. “Oh my god, just drive, dude.”

The playlist was very ‘90s-heavy, and Shane sang along with a lot of it. Ryan joined in when he knew the words, and as they pulled up at a red light, Shane stopped the song. “Hold on, there’s a song I wanna listen to right now.”

Alanis Morissette’s  _ Head Over Feet _ started playing, and Ryan laughed. “Really, dude?”

Shane just sang at him instead of answering.

Ryan nodded along with the beat, listening to Shane sing, and he sounded so earnest - when the chorus started, Ryan had to join in, and they belted out the words at the top of their lungs. 

The next verse started when they got stuck at another stoplight, and Shane looked over at Ryan to sing to him.  _ “Your love is thick and it swallowed me whole, you're so much braver than I gave you credit for.” _ Ryan laughed and rolled his eyes, and Shane poked him as he sang the next line.  _ “That's not lip service.” _

He left this chorus to Shane, and he sounded  _ so good _ singing; Ryan pulled out his phone and started filming him, and he didn’t stop until the song had ended and Shane’s playlist moved onto something else. Shane was smiling, and the way the light fell on his face made him look almost ethereal. He snapped one last picture when Shane glanced over, and then he put his phone down.

They held hands over the center console for the rest of the drive.

Singing along to Shane’s bizarre and eclectic taste in music was a great distraction from the reality of things, and the drive flew by. When Ryan didn’t know the words, he improvised, playing air drums or air guitar in the passenger seat. It felt like they were back at the beginning of everything - young and happy and ready to spend the lazy back half of summer together.

Parking at the airport threw everything right back into perspective.

The air seemed to get heavier as they got out of the car, and Ryan gathered his things. Shane disappeared for a moment, only to reappear one of the luggage carts they charged for. “Found it over there. I guess someone was too lazy to be a decent human being and put it back.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind free shit.”

Ryan’s gear was all in hard cases for safekeeping, except the extra cables which he’d tossed in a camera bag while packing; Shane pushed the cart into the terminal with him, and he waited patiently by Ryan’s side while he checked all his stuff. “You should come with me and help me get all my shit together at LAX,” Ryan said, teasing just a little, even though his chest hurt every time he thought just a second too long about what they were doing.

“You know I wish I could.”

And then it was done. Ryan had his boarding pass and his backpack and his carry-on, and he and Shane had returned the cart to the little rack of them, and there was no more time left to waste. The security line was obnoxiously long, and Ryan had sworn under his breath when he’d seen it - delaying his departure with one last coffee date wouldn’t be able to happen.

Shane took a deep breath next to Ryan, and Ryan looked up at him; his eyes were wet, and that was enough to set Ryan off. He felt the tears welling up in his own eyes and swallowed hard.

“I should probably get in line,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “It’s… probably gonna take a little while to get through.”

“Yeah.” Shane’s voice was thick, and he brought his hand up to rub at his arm; it settled on his elbow, and he held himself like that, a little withdrawn and a little distant in a way Ryan hadn’t seen before. He decided immediately that he hated it.

“So this is… I… I guess this is goodbye.” It was the first time either of them had said  _ that _ word in relation to what exactly what was happening; they’d avoided it, because it made things seem so much more concrete.

There wasn’t much that was more real and solid than standing at airport security, Ryan’s flight boarding in less than an hour. 

Shane nodded a few times, and Ryan watched his Adam’s apple bob a few times as he swallowed hard. When his eyes met Shane’s, Shane was crying. A few tears rolled down his cheeks and Ryan reached up to brush one away. His touch was gentle, and Shane closed his eyes, like he couldn’t bear to look at him like this.

Ryan understood.

He stepped a bit closer before wiping his own cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I’m gonna miss you so bad, Shane.”

“I know.” He sounded almost broken, and Ryan wanted nothing more than to say fuck it and stay here, holding Shane until he didn’t sound like that anymore. “I know. And… I’ll miss you too.” He let his hand fall from his arm, and Ryan took that for the invitation he hoped it was intended to be.

He took the last step forward and wrapped his arms around Shane as tightly as he could.

Shane pulled him close, even though his backpack was large and unwieldy and still on his back. He pressed his face into Ryan’s hair and his chest shook; he was really crying now, and Ryan hated knowing it was his fault. 

They stayed like that for a minute or two, and when Ryan pulled back, there was a wet patch on the chest of Shane’s flannel. Shane’s eyes were red and puffy and still welling up, and he sniffed while he wiped at them with one hand. “You better go. You’ve got a flight to catch. You’ll text me when you land, right?”

Ryan nodded and tried his best to compose himself. “I will. Promise.” He ran a hand through his hair - it had been messy before Shane had cried into it, but now it was beyond salvageable, and he pulled his hood up. “I… yeah. I’ll… I’ll talk to you later?”

Shane stared for a moment before he tilted Ryan’s chin up with one hand and leaned down to kiss him, thorough and intense and deep. Ryan melted into it, kissing back as good as he got.

When they broke apart, their faces were a little redder, and Shane cleared his throat. “I l-- I’ll let you go. Fly safe. I’ll miss you.”

Ryan knew if he didn’t go now, he never would, and he headed into the security line with his bags.

Shane stayed in the same spot, watching him until Ryan couldn’t see him anymore beyond the metal detectors and x-ray scanners.

He pointedly didn’t think about it too hard - if he thought about how that was the last time he’d see him in person for a while, he’d spend his entire flight home crying.

Instead he headed for a bar, hoping a few strong drinks consumed a little too quickly would help him sleep on the flight instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if u have feelings feel free to msg me on discord (joanna!#2793) or twitter (@thexwalrus)
> 
> toss a comment/kudo to your writer.
> 
> love you dearly


	16. september

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry i continue to be the worst at updating regularly. genuinely.
> 
> thank you to my favorite, [yesi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks) for the beta and for everything she's done for me since we met in this fandom.
> 
> no soundtrack, but a new cast of characters that i love. enjoy!

“How was the show tonight?”

“Good. Crowd was into it. Devon showed up.”

“It doesn’t  _ sound _ like it went well.”

“I kept expecting to see you at the bar, laughing with Joyce, but you weren’t. It… It fucking sucked, Ryan.

“I know. But it’s only the first show that I wasn’t there. Maybe it’ll get easier.”

“I doubt it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m sitting on my couch alone eating Chipotle and missing your stupid cat. So even if your night was shitty, it still beats mine.”

“Honestly? Yeah. It kinda does.”

***

Ryan had been putting off unpacking for a week now, but he knew he eventually needed to grow up and do it. He lugged his suitcases down to the laundry room and pulled out his bag of quarters; he started loading up one of the washers with all the darks he could find, tossing in t-shirts and shorts and jeans in one by one.

He paused when he picked the last one up and it unrolled in his hand.

The blue fabric was just as soft as it had been the day he’d borrowed it, and the red logo on the front was comfortably faded from years of wear. He remembered the first day he saw it, on a not-date with his not-boyfriend at the time, where midmorning coffee turned into pizza and beer because neither of them wanted to leave the other’s company. He remembered grabbing it after their first night together, using it to cover his hickeys as he headed home on cloud nine. He remembered promising to return it to its rightful owner after washing it.

Instead it had come with him, and Shane’s Chicago t-shirt had ended up almost two thousand miles away from home.

Ryan had gotten better at handling the sadness that came whenever his mind wandered back to Chicago, and instead of breaking down (like he had the first few days he’d been back in Los Angeles, much to his mother’s concern) he just smiled and threw it in the wash. Instead of being a somber reminder, it was a little piece of Shane here with him - and he knew Shane would appreciate a picture of him in it the next time he wore it.

Doing laundry felt good, almost. It was nice to tackle a task that had been hanging over his head for a while, and the productivity would have a domino effect like it often did - while his clothes were in the machines, he could follow up on the job lead that Andrew had sent to him a few days ago. It sounded like an almost guaranteed position, and Ryan really, truly wanted to be done with freelancing.

Freelancing had been great to him, but it was time to settle down into a job with steady hours and steady pay. He needed roots now; roots meant he could save up and go back to visit his friends in Chicago.

Not that he’d admit his reasoning to anyone who asked.

He’d brought his laptop to the laundry room with him just in case he felt ready to send his demo reel into the firm Andrew told him about - Uplight, they were called, and they already employed Andrew, Steven, and Curly. They’d all sworn to put in a good word for him, and he knew his work was good enough to speak for itself.

He hopped up onto the table in the center of the room and opened his laptop, ready to start a new chapter of his life in Los Angeles.

The email was easy enough - his resume and cover letter had been updated on the flight back home, so the longest part of the process was typing a note to Keith in the body of the email itself. He sent it and then set his laptop aside; he put on Brent’s Basement to play while he transferred his wet clothes into the dryers and started another load in the washer. He was alone, and he wasn’t disturbing anyone - and, embarrassingly enough, he missed Shane’s voice. 

By the time he was taking his first bunch of clothes out of the dryer and tossing them haphazardly into one of his two laundry baskets, his laptop was pinging to alert him to a new email. 

He expected a spam email from the NBA Shop, not a response from Keith with possible interview times and the address of their office.

Ryan scrambled, ignoring the annoying buzzing of the dryer’s little alarm while he responded with an acceptance and a time slot. Once Keith had confirmed their time, Ryan pulled out his phone - he shot off one “thank you” text to Andrew, Steven, and Curly, and then he opened up his other most recent conversation.

** _so i don’t wanna jinx it_ **

** _but i have an interview at a production company_ **

** _fingers crossed i get the job_ **

_ You’re going to nail it, Bergara. _

_ You’re amazing at what you do. _

_ Don’t try to deny it. I’ve seen the pictures you’ve taken. You’ve got a cinematographer’s eye. _

_ Zack wants me to relay his “you’ll kill it,” so there you go. _

** _tell him thank you_ **

** _and also thank YOU_ **

** _i miss you like crazy dude just in case you forgot_ **

_ I didn’t, but it’s nice to hear. _

_ I’ll text you after rehearsal because I think Brent’s gonna throw something at me if I keep letting you distract me. _

Saying he felt like he was on cloud nine would be underselling it; as Ryan finished his laundry, he hummed along to the songs playing from his laptop. He sent a video of him dancing to New Religion to Shane for later, and then tossed his phone in his laundry basket for safekeeping while he went to unload more clothes from the washer.

Laundry took far too long - he listened to Brent’s Basement all the way through twice by the time it was done. His downstairs neighbor, Kristin, ended up coming in and sharing the space with him for a little bit, and she didn’t make him turn off the music. “They’re really good, who are they?” she asked as she nodded her head and tossed some sweatpants in an open washer.

“They’re this little band from Chicago called the Skeptics,” Ryan said, and he had to fight himself to keep the pride out of his voice. “They’re really good.”

“Fuck yeah they are.”

“I think the album’s online,” he lied, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not on, like, Spotify but they’re also not stuck on Youtube.”

“People who use Youtube to listen to music on their phone really have to join us in 2018,” she told him, motioning with a capful of her laundry detergent before she poured it in. “Sounds like these guys are just starting out, but I’m into that. Get in before they get big and stuff.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, even as he lugged all his laundry back up the stairs to his apartment, which was enough to qualify as his daily workout. 

After his laundry was back in his closet where it belonged, and his suitcases were tucked away again, he pulled out his phone and flopped back on his bed. He was about to text Jake to see if he could drive over and steal him away from whatever he was doing to go out for dinner when his phone started ringing - Shane was Facetiming him, and he immediately accepted the call and sat up straighter.

“Hey, big guy,” he said softly, smiling at the pixelated image of Shane before leaning over to grab his headphones. “How was rehearsal?”

“Good! We finished a couple new things we’re gonna play this weekend. I’ll have Kelsey record ‘em and I’ll send ‘em your way.” The video froze for a moment before it sharpened, and Ryan knew he looked like a lovestruck fool as he beamed at Shane, who was smiling right back at him. “Also hi. It’s good to see you.”

“I missed your dumb face,” Ryan said softly, and Shane nodded.

“Right back at you.”

Shane moved, and Ryan could tell he was in bed, too - it was late there, and he probably had work in the morning. “Did you get my video? Sometimes the wifi’s a little questionable in the laundry room.”

“Of course it is, Ryan, why would it have to be  _ good _ in the laundry room?” Shane laughed, wheezing when Ryan flipped him off, but he settled down quickly. “Yes, I did. Whatever the guys say I did when I saw it, I definitely didn’t do and they’re exaggerating.”

Ryan’s eyes widened. “Oh, I’m  _ totally _ texting them all when we’re done here.”

“Don’t believe a single word they say.”

Chuckling, Ryan shook his head and sighed. “Next time I send you something like that, I’ll ask someone to film your reaction. Then I’ll have proof.”

“Good luck with that. Like my bandmates would betray me.”

“I think you’d be surprised, dude.”

The conversation died there, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable - it never did with Shane, and Ryan watched him run a hand through his hair. He looked tired, the deep kind that left bags under his eyes.

“Hey,” Ryan said, voice soft. “You gettin’ enough sleep?”

Shane’s hesitation told Ryan most of what he needed to know, and he gave Shane a stern look.

“Listen,” Shane started when he noticed Ryan’s face. “It’s not that I’m not trying. I’ve just been… I’m working on getting a more consistent job. Something with regular hours.” He rubbed a hand over his face, pushing his glasses up onto his forehead for a second. “I just… I don’t have a ton of time right now, so I’ve been staying up later than usual, and my body naturally wakes me up at six. I’m staying in bed as late as I can to try and get more sleep, but it’s not working.”

“Then you should go to sleep now, man. We can talk tomorrow.” Even though they’d gotten used to it - they’d gotten into the habit of calling each other at least once a day - saying goodbye and hanging up hurt. “Night, Shane.”

As if on cue, Shane yawned, and Ryan smiled fondly. “G’night, Ry.” The screen froze on Shane’s sleepy smile, and then it was back to Ryan’s home screen.

He stared at his home screen for a few moments; he really hadn’t adjusted yet to only seeing Shane’s face in pictures. He missed holding his hand and shoving him when he was being particularly annoying, and the way Shane pulled him in for hugs.

He opened up his texts to send one last message to Shane before he got up to take a shower and prepare his interview outfit.

** _got to tell someone new about your music_ **

** _i think she might buy the album_ **

_ You really are our biggest fan. _

Ryan watched the screen, and the typing bubble disappeared and reappeared a few times before the next message arrived.

_ I love that. _ _   
_ _ Thank you, Ry. Goodnight. _

***

It was too hot to wear a blazer, and as a result, Ryan felt incredibly underdressed as he sat in his car outside of Uplight Media. He adjusted his tie around his neck, loosening it just a hair, and then he snapped a quick picture to send to Shane.

** _wish me luck!_ **

_ Luck! _

_ You don’t need it, though. _

_ Let me know when you start when the interview’s over. _

Shane’s effortless confidence in him was exactly what he needed. He took a deep breath, shot a quick text to Curly, and then got out of his car. 

Uplight had a strangely comfortable atmosphere when he walked in - there weren’t many walls, and the desks had plenty of room both on them and around them. A few folks were loading cameras into hard cases by their desks, while other people were working at their computers, headphones on and oblivious to the world around them. Ryan saw Curly, who waved a little over his monitor, and just knowing that someone in the building had his back made Ryan feel a little more at ease. 

Andrew walked by him with a bag slung over his shoulder and a huge smile. “Hey, Bergara. Nice to see you. You’re gonna wanna check in there.” He pointed towards the cozy little front desk and clapped him on the shoulder before he kept on walking.

The woman at the front desk had shockingly pink hair, and when she looked up from her computer, her smile was bright and mischievous. “Hi!” she said, leaning forward a little. “What can I do for ya?”

“Uh, I’m Ryan Bergara,” he said, smoothing out the fabric of his dress shirt. “I’m here for an interview with Keith?”

“Ohh,” the woman said, checking something on her computer and clicking a few times before she stood up. “Cool, lemme walk you over. I’m Sara, by the way.”

Ryan nodded, feeling awkward and unsure of himself, and it wasn’t until they were a few steps away from her desk that he realized he should probably respond to that. “Nice to meet you.”

“You can relax, y’know,” she told him over her shoulder while she weaved past people who were moving lights. Ryan was a little in awe at just how much equipment these people actually had at their disposal, and his determination to work here grew a little bit. “We’re a pretty chill place to work. Most people here, like, work here full time but pursue passion projects on the side. I work the desk and help keep things organized but I also keep my sketchbook up there and work on my own art. So breathe and don’t get all inside your own head.”

Ryan nodded a few times and tried to follow her advice.

Keith’s office was tucked away by what appeared to be recording booths. It had light-blue walls and no door, so Sara knocked on the doorframe. “Hey Keith? Ryan Bergara’s here for his interview.”

Keith looked up from his computer and smiled; his mouth was distractingly big, but he still seemed friendly. “Ryan!” he said, standing up and offering his hand, which Ryan took and shook with a smile of his own. “It’s fantastic to meet you! You come  _ very _ highly recommended.”

“Thank you. I, uh, hope my resume backed those expectations up.” Ryan sat in the chair in front of Keith’s desk, and Keith sat back down.

“Oh, it did. And your demo reel is great - really, it is. It’s impressive.” Keith turned off the monitor in front of him and shifted so he could really look at Ryan. “So. I’ve seen your skills and your qualifications. Now I wanna learn a little about you. You can probably tell we’re a pretty relaxed place, so I like to make sure if we add a new face in, they’re gonna fit with what we’ve got going.”

Ryan blinked, then nodded. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense. What, uh, what do you wanna know?”

Keith smiled again, and it was almost disarming. “Career goals - obviously doing work for us isn’t your big plan in life. I’d be shocked if it was. But what’re some things you want to achieve?” He picked up a pen and started wiggling it, probably just for something to do with his hands. “Sara works here because she’s saving up to open a gallery for her sketches and paintings. Steven’s here to buff up his resume before moving onto working for movie studios. Adam’s here to hone his skills before he starts applying to work in television. What’s your next step?”

That was a big question; Ryan’s goals had always seemed so distant, something he couldn’t do for a decade at least. Keith’s question had made him realize how attainable it actually was. “I guess it would be directing a short film or a movie or something. I like being behind a camera, but my heart’s always been in storytelling.” He shrugged. “And I feel like adding a little diversity to Hollywood could only be a good thing.”

Keith nodded, thoughtful and appreciative as he took in what Ryan had said. “That’s good to know. A lot of what we do here can actually open doors into what you wanna do - clients we work with often have a vague idea they want us to bring to life.”

Ryan nodded a few times. “Yeah?”

“So. An example. There’s a really popular food blogger we worked with - she wanted to do a video featuring her favorite restaurant in Los Angeles. She hired us and we went there to film it for her. Andrew actually got to step up and be director, because Niki had some ideas but she wasn’t sure how to execute them. It’s very collaborative, but it’s a chance to get comfortable in the role you want to be in.” Keith was smiling; Ryan had a feeling he knew that this sounded absolutely perfect to him. “Obviously it’s not gonna be your first project - we’ll ease you into it, let you get comfortable with what working here is actually like first. It’s challenging but it’s rewarding. And since Steven, Andrew, and Curly all spoke to your work ethic and creativity, I have no doubt in my mind you’ll be able to rise to it.”

Ryan nodded a few times. He’d done that a lot this interview, but it didn’t even feel like a traditional interview at all. It felt like a normal conversation with big implications and consequences.

“So,” Keith said with a grin. “Can you start tomorrow?”

***

Curly had been the one to suggest celebration tacos after he, Andrew, and Steven had gotten off work. Ryan had agreed immediately; he was flying high on knowing he had a pretty consistent, steady job lined up with people he liked already. Keith seemed like a good guy to work for, and the company itself seemed to be thriving. The guys had all spoken highly of Keith and their coworkers when urging Ryan to apply - it felt good and right, and he was genuinely excited.

Curly took them to the best taco truck he knew of, and they sat on the curb by Ryan’s car and ate in the late afternoon sun. Brent’s Basement was playing over Ryan’s sound system while they ate; it combined with the sounds of cars passing by on the freeway, and the smell of the meat being cooked on the taco truck came together with those and the golden hour to remind Ryan where he was.

He was home.

He took out his phone to take a quick picture of the guys eating their food - Steven was mid-sentence, discussing how deliciously the flavors all blended together, and he looked absolutely ridiculous, but Ryan sent it off to Shane anyway.

** _i start tomorrow. we’re celebrating with tacos tonight._ **

** _when you visit i have to take you here._ **

** _miss you._ **

Once his phone was tucked away in his pocket again, he took another bite of his taco and hummed happily. Mexican food just couldn’t compare anywhere else except for in Mexico - especially things cooked so authentically like this. “Curly, thanks for showing me this place,” he said offhandedly as he wiped up some crema from his plate with the last bite of his last taco. “It’s so fucking good.”

“You’re welcome. I thought you’d enjoy it, and what’s better to celebrate with than the best, cheapest food you can find?”

“Champagne?” Andrew suggested, and Curly just shrugged.

“Seriously, though - thank you guys. I really needed this job, and it seems, like, way too good to be true.”

“I mean, a lot of clients are honestly fucking stupid,” Andrew said, wiping his hand off on one of the napkins he’d taken. “And it’s incredibly frustrating to deal with them. I guarantee you this job’ll make you want to pull your own hair out.”

Ryan grimaced, and Curly just patted him on the shoulder a few times.

“But,” Andrew continued, “Keith’s also a great boss if you take your job seriously. We’re all driven, and that’s why everything works so well. People have come and gone ‘cause it’s not someplace they thrive.”

“For real. Like, you? You’re definitely gonna kick ass ‘cause you got so much patience, and I saw that in Chicago.” Curly nudged Ryan’s knee with his own. “Just remember that no client is worth losin’ this job over. Repeat it to yourself all the time if you need to.”

Ryan laughed and picked up his soda can from where it was sitting on the ground next to him. “Alright. Guess this’ll be an adventure.”

“Oh yeah it will be,” Steven said with a huge grin. “But it’s gonna be a good one. Just you wait.”

As they were all getting back in their cars to head home, and Ryan turned up the album, his phone buzzed with a text.

_ Told you you didn’t need luck. _

_ When I visit, we’re going there at that exact time so I can see you in that light. _

_ Missing you is making me a big sap. Come back so this can stop. _

Ryan’s heart melted, and he shot off another quick text before he started his car so he could drive home.

** _i wish i could_ **

** _guess you’ll just have to get used to having feelings._ **

***

Ryan felt something akin to first day of school jitters as he got ready to head in for his first day at Uplight. He dressed casually - Steven had told him there was really no dress code as long as he looked acceptable to be in public - and didn’t spend too much time messing with his hair. 

He put New Religion on loop on the drive in to calm his nerves, drumming his hands against the steering wheel when he was stuck in traffic, singing along with the windows down when he wasn’t. His voice was terrible, but the singing helped; by the time he parked in Uplight’s parking lot, he felt good and ready for a new start.

Keith was waiting for him when he walked in, and he made a very loud and happy noise when he entered. “Ryan!” His smile was contagious, and Ryan reached out to shake the hand he was offered. “Welcome! I’m gonna bring you to your desk and let you get settled. We handled all the paperwork and everything yesterday, so today’s gonna be for you to get your work space set up like you want it.” Keith waved for Ryan to follow as he headed towards the various clusters of desks; he walked past Andrew and Curly, and Curly blew Ryan a kiss as they did. “Y’know, get Premiere squared away with all your shortcuts and settings. Import any color profiles you like to use. Make sure you have all the fonts you like to use in Photoshop and After Effects. Stuff like that.”

He nodded and shoved his keys in his pocket. His brain was already racing trying to remember what he’d changed in his settings on his MacBook at home.

“Once you’re all done with that, we have a really short little video to make for a local car dealership. All the footage already exists and the storyboard is done. You can just edit it together, lay the audio track over it, y’know, very basic things. All I ask is that you send it to me first so I can make sure there’s no issues before we send it off to the client for a final proof.”

Keith brought him over to a very small and quiet group of desks; there was one empty one facing a guy in a baseball cap, tucked next to one where the guy was wearing headphones and focusing on his screen. “Alright! Here’s your desk. This is Zach and Adam, they’ll be your neighbors. In your email you’ll find links to our Slack and anything you might need, uh…” Keith paused, and he was quiet for a moment. “No, I think that’s it! Great! Let any of us know if you need anything.” 

Ryan turned away from Keith as he walked away, and he pulled out the chair at his new desk. The guy sitting next to him looked up, and paused the video he was working on in Premiere. He slid his left headphone back and held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Adam.”

“Ryan.”

“Cool.” And then his headphones were back on and he was back at work, ignoring Ryan.

At least he’d be a good guy to work next to.

Ryan was setting up his computer to his preferences when Zach poked his head around his monitor. “Hi! Nice to meet you, man, I’m Zach.” He waved instead of offering his hand, and Ryan smiled and waved back. “Welcome to Uplight and stuff.”

“Thanks, man. It’s good to be here.” He clicked around and waited for the various programs he needed to open; he was pleasantly surprised they all booted up no problem, and his computer didn’t even start to whirr or chug like his laptop did. It was powerful, and he felt himself get a little more excited to work here.

** _hey shane_ **

** _i think i’m gonna love my new job_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm going to be posting the remaining few chapters scattered through this upcoming week, ending with the epilogue on friday, as it was originally planned at the start.
> 
> love y'all. be safe, wash your hands, practice social distancing, go out and vote, etc.


	17. winter 2018

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> another chapter beta'd by yesi, because she's the best. go read her fics, they're the best things in the world.
> 
> only a couple songs for this chapter! [here's](https://youtu.be/_bXTbfnWPqk) the song shane sends to ryan, and [this song](https://youtu.be/dQ01or9e5P8) is the one from the end of the chapter! enjoy!

Settling into a routine now that he was working regular days at Uplight was easy. Weekday mornings all started to feel the same in a way that was relaxing; work was challenging enough, but in a rewarding way, and nights were spent laughing with his coworkers who were rapidly becoming friends.

Every day he listened to the Skeptics as he got ready, as he drove, while he was working on spec scripts; when the silence felt loud or oppressive, he sought out Shane’s voice.

Kristin would pass him in the hall and stop him to talk about life, and a few times she’d bring up their album. “It’s really fucking good, dude, I’ve told a bunch of people to listen to it.”

“Yeah?” Ryan smiled. “What’s your favorite song?”

“God, that’s so hard.” She thought hard about that for a second, folding her laundry with a determined look on her face. “Probably Make You Mine. It’s so catchy and sweet.”

Ryan blushed and immediately turned to face the washer, just so Kristin wouldn’t see it. “Yeah, that’s a good one.”

“Every time I find a love song like that I have to imagine, like, what’s it like to be the person that was written about, y’know?” Kristin sighed dreamily, and she pulled a neon pink dress from the dryer. “I really wanna know what it’s like to be loved like that.”

Ryan paused. He hadn’t really thought about it like that - obviously he’d  _ thought _ about it, but not like Kristin was posing it. Other people heard that song and thought of it as a grand declaration of feelings, of deep and sweet romantic love; he’d looked at it as the way Shane had opened up about his crush.

It never occurred to him that may have held a larger meaning.

He wasn’t gonna bring it up to Shane - they still called each other almost every day. They’d Facetime while Shane worked on stuff for his second job - he’d started offering his services at a local youth center, editing college essays and tutoring kids in a more structured environment - and Shane would fill him in on stories from band rehearsal. It was a nice routine and he wasn’t going to ruin it by implying his boyfriend loved him before his boyfriend was even ready to maybe admit that.

It was operating on a lot of assumptions Ryan wasn’t willing to make. All that mattered to him was knowing Shane cared about him deeply - and he did. That much was obvious. What word they used to describe that feeling was irrelevant.

It was kind of wonderfully strange, though, having Kristin and her friends sing Skeptics songs while they decorated Kristin’s front door for Halloween, mixed in between Ariana Grande and Jonas Brothers and blink-182. Having Zach talk about getting into them after Ryan mentioned them felt bizarre. None of them knew that he’d recorded that album or that he was dating the lead singer - and he didn’t know why he kept that secret under wraps. Maybe it was because saying “my friend’s band” made people a little less likely to listen to them; that was why he’d first brushed the Skeptics off - they were every frat boy’s friend’s band at first glance.

Ryan wanted Shane and the guys to succeed too much to sabotage them like that, even inadvertently.

So he watched people around him - friends and acquaintances alike - fall in love with the music, and he kept his little smiles to himself.

“We finally have enough to get Zack his new keyboard,” Shane told him one night over Facetime; Ryan was working on a plan for a work party for Quinta’s birthday; he hardly ever worked with her, but she was a riot and got along great with Andrew. They’d gone out for drinks a few times as a group, and she was, without a doubt, one of the funniest people Ryan had ever met - therefore, he jumped at the chance to help orchestrate a huge birthday surprise for her. 

Ryan stopped scrolling through Party City’s website and looked at Shane’s face in the corner of his screen; he was scruffy, his hair was shaggy, and his eyes looked tired behind his glasses, but he was practically glowing with happiness. “Fuck, man, how the hell did that happen?”

Obi’s tail flicked past Shane’s face and Ryan laughed a little as Shane moved back from the table so Obi could get settled. “We, uh, we’re apparently selling a lot of albums,” Shane said, one hand petting his cat just out of frame while the other rubbed at his forehead. “Like… I think we’re up to thirty copies so far.”

Ryan blinked; he’d had realistically high hopes for their album. That was higher than he’d expected them to actually reach. “Holy shit.”

“I know,” Shane said, laughing a little. “I was shocked too. I didn’t realize there were even thirty people on the planet who liked our music, but. Here we are.”

“Guess Chicago’s best kept secret is finally gettin’ out.” Ryan smirked, ignoring Shane’s groan as he continued. “Seriously. I’ve been telling people about you guys out here. I know a few people have started digging your stuff - word of mouth is a powerful thing, Madej.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Shane said, so fondly it almost sounded like an  _ I love you. _ “We appreciate what you’ve done for us so much already. You don’t have to be our one-man street team. You got us enough money to finally get Zack his new shit. That’s huge to us.”

“I mean, I’m not doing it to try and be a street team or whatever, y’know.” Ryan shrugged and leaned forward a little, resting his chin in his hand. “I’m doin’ it ‘cause I love your music, and I’m listening to it all the time.”

Shane just shook his head, and Obi meowed from his lap. “I know, I agree,” he told him, looking down - an orange paw came up to tap at Shane’s nose, and Ryan’s heart melted a little. “I think this little guy needs food. I better go.”

Ryan sighed and nodded. “Okay. Goodnight. Give Obi a few scratches for me.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Ry.” Shane blew a kiss at his webcam and then the feed cut; Ryan was glad he couldn’t see his dopey smile and little blush. 

It wasn’t until Ryan was checking out with a frankly obscene amount of office decorations from Party City that his phone vibrated and his laptop pinged with a new text. He completed his purchase and sent a message to Steven before he opened it, just in case he got distracted.

_ My cousin showed me this song because she’s fallen in love with Harry Styles, and I’ve been meaning to send it to you. _

_ I don’t want to say “I thought of you when I heard it,” because that’s cheesy. _

_ But I did. So. _

There was a link to a song - Ryan didn’t even look at the artwork before he clicked it. He loved Shane’s music taste and trusted him to only send good songs.

That trust was tested for a moment when Spotify opened up a song from One Direction, but he waited it out. If Shane could tolerate it, so could he.

The melody was flowy and the words were sweet; none of the guys in the band had bad voices, obviously, and it was all well-produced. Ryan kept the song on while he got up to make himself some dinner, and the chorus hit just as he opened the fridge.

_ “‘Cause nobody knows you, baby, the way I do. And nobody loves you, baby, the way I do.” _

Ryan almost dropped the jar of salsa on his foot when he heard it.

He knew, of course, that he was overreacting - people sent each other songs like this all the time before they dropped the L word in conversation. Love songs were meant to capture feelings, not necessarily express verbatim what the person sending it might be feeling. Shane didn’t write this song, so obviously it wasn’t an exact thing directly from Shane’s mouth.

But it was still a pretty strong sentiment.

The song was good, and Ryan kept it on repeat while he made some nachos; by the time they were ready to eat (he’d gotten distracted by his fantasy football group chat), he was humming along with the chorus. His heart was warm, and he shot off a text for Shane to see when he woke up. It wasn’t much, just a few hearts, but he hoped it conveyed what he needed it to.

Their first  _ I love you _ couldn’t be over text, so hearts would have to be enough for now.

***

Ryan’s birthday came and went without much fanfare - being born in the start of the holiday season made it hard to celebrate effectively - and aside from drinks with Zach, Curly, Andrew, and Steven, Ryan didn’t do much of anything outside of his family. His mother invited him over for dinner and made him a cake, and Jake threw Lakers tickets at him without much fanfare. It was nice, just how Ryan liked his birthdays, and it was even nicer when Shane told him they’d take a day soon to watch movies together over the phone. “I know it feels pretty high school, but all the flights out to you are way too expensive. I tried, though.”

“Fuckin’ airlines, man.” Ryan knew he sounded overly fond at the very idea of Shane trying to surprise him for his birthday. “I’m gonna start hoarding my frequent flyer miles to get you out here.”

“I’m assuming telling you not to won’t change anything.”

“You’re learning! I’m proud.”

They both took a day off a few weeks later and spent a Friday together on the phone, watching old horror movies together and trying to sync them up so they were at the same point - it didn’t work well, by any means, but all that mattered to them both was spending the few hours talking like they were in the same room. It was nice, and Ryan didn’t want it to end, even though he knew Shane had to be at the Innertown eventually. 

Even being prepared for it didn’t make the goodbye any easier.

Ryan busied himself with making plans for the night of the Lakers game; Steven had been psyched to be invited, and they were trying to figure out dinner plans over text - Steven kept sending him links to menus of places near the Staples Center - when Jen facetimed him. He accepted immediately - he missed her - and his greeting was cut off by Shane’s voice.

“You guys have been so great tonight and we’re gonna play a new one for you,” Shane said, shifting his weight on the stage; the image wasn’t clear, not by any means, but Ryan could still make him out and hear him clearly. He hadn’t really realized how much he missed the Innertown until this moment, seeing it from the same spot he’d sat in so many nights. He felt a little homesick for it, but the warm happiness he was feeling outweighed it.

He made a mental note to send Jen something ridiculous and extravagant for Christmas as thanks.

“I wrote this song for someone very special on their birthday,” he said, and even though he couldn’t make out his face, Ryan could hear him smile. “I didn’t get to see them, ‘cause they live in California, but I have someone making sure they see this tonight. Happy birthday, babe. This’ll have to do until I can visit you.”

That alone was enough to melt Ryan’s heart, but then the song started. It was soft and slow and acoustic, and the way Shane sang was syrupy sweet.  _ “Well I’ll be your rainy day lover whenever the sunny days end.” _ The imagery was so gentle, in a way, and Ryan rested his chin in his hand as he watched Shane sing another love song he’d written for him. The feeling would never, ever get old.

_ “I wanna love you forever, I do.” _ There it was again - the L word. Except this time, there was no other way to interpret it: this was a song Shane had written, explicitly for Ryan, and he had the option of any word in the English language.

He still chose love.

He’d said “this’ll have to do” before he’d started playing it - Ryan had initially assumed that he’d meant that he’d play this for him in person the next time they were together, but now he was wondering if that had been right. Maybe he’d meant it would have to be enough until he could say “I love you” in person.

Ryan had avoided saying it because he wasn’t about to do it over the phone or in a text. It didn’t feel right to do that; he was in love with Shane, and he wanted to say that to his face, when they were occupying the same space. That’s how it was supposed to happen - sure, it sucked to have to fight the word down every time they spoke when letting it spill out would be so much simpler, but it wasn’t right.

Maybe Shane had found a loophole and had decided to exploit it until they weren’t two thousand miles apart anymore.

Shane was lucky he had one; he’d told Ryan, ages ago, that he liked music because it afforded him a veil of ambiguity through metaphor. This was barely ambiguous - it was pretty obvious what Shane was trying to say through his lyrics, and it made Ryan’s chest feel a little tighter to listen to him talk about changing and growing together. 

He was glad the images on the phone weren’t clearer, or he’d be crying with Jen watching him. He kept his hand close to his eyes though, just in case, and as the song swelled, he expected the last chorus to be louder and a little more intense than the rest. Instead it melted back to that same sweet quietness that the first one had been, but the lyrics had changed, and that was enough to set Ryan off. 

_ “I’m gonna spend all of my days with you.” _ With that, Ryan did genuinely start crying, and he bit his lip to try and keep as many of the tears from falling as he could. The song finished up - Shane’s final  _ “I’m gonna spend my forever, forever like that.” _ was particularly tender - and Ryan covered his face as Jen turned the camera back around to face her.

“Happy belated birthday, Ry. We miss you!”

He sniffed and blew out a breath before he spoke. “Warn a guy next time, okay?”

“Shane didn’t tell me what he was doing! I didn’t know! It was really sweet, though.”

“He’s a fucking asshole. Tell him that for me when you see him.”

Jen laughed and nodded. “Okay, I will. That’s a weird way to say ‘I love you too, Shane’ but I respect it.”

In the background, Brent started a drumroll, and Jen looked away from her screen. “I’m gonna go!” she yelled over the guitars. “I’ll talk to you later!”

Once the call was over, Ryan took a few deep, measured breaths. He willed himself to put the emotions to the side - this wasn’t something they could talk about right away, because Shane was onstage, and it wasn’t something they could talk about before they were together in person. He could wait and be patient, because Shane was worth it.

He confirmed a restaurant with Steven, told him when he’d pick him up, and went to turn on a movie he’d seen a dozen times before.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to focus on much else.

***

Ryan was surprised when he woke up without a missed text from Shane - he hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch, and now Netflix’s idle screen was cycling on the TV in front of him. It all made sense, though, when he opened the message from Jen: a series of increasingly blurry pictures of her and the band at the bar. They all looked very happy, and he heart reacted to every one. He knew they were all probably pretty hungover, and he only hoped for their sake it passed fast.

He was just about to hop in the shower when his phone rang, and he turned off the water and walked out of the bathroom in his towel before he answered without looking at his caller ID. “Hello?”

“Hey, sunshine,” Shane’s sleep-rough voice said from the other end, and Ryan’s smile was instantaneous. “I wanted to talk to you last night after the show, but Jen distracted me.”

“I’m surprised you’re even coherent, honestly. Those pictures looked like you were havin’ a damn good time.”

Shane’s groan made Ryan laugh, but he kept it as soft as he could for Shane’s sake. “I don’t remember taking pictures. Fuck.”

“Don’t worry,” he said soothingly. “They’re not bad. You look cute.”

“You’re just sayin’ that ‘cause of your new song.”

Ryan could feel his cheeks heat up, and he leaned back against the wall as he considered that. “No. But I did like my new song. Just so you know.”

Shane hummed, and it sounded muffled by his pillow. Ryan wished he could see him, groggy and a little messy from the night before but handsome anyway in what would be the midday sun filtering in through his window. “Good.” There was a long pause after Shane said that, and Ryan didn’t dare break the silence. “I meant it, y’know. The stuff in the song. All of it.”

“Yeah?” Ryan hated how hopeful and breathy his voice sounded, but there was a soft chuckle on the end of the line.

“Yeah,” Shane confirmed.

Warmth filled Ryan’s chest, and he smiled and closed his eyes just to take the moment in. “Me too. Ditto, I mean. I feel the same.”

There was a happy sound on Shane’s end of the call, muffled but still audible, and Ryan could practically see his face pressed into the pillow, content in not moving. “Good,” he said again, and then he yawned.

“Drink some water, Shane. Get some rest. I’ll talk to you when you’re regretting all your life choices later today.” Ryan couldn’t help how fond he came across, and he only hoped Shane wouldn’t remember it too clearly.

“‘M not regretting you,” Shane said. “Bye, baby.”

“I’ll talk to you later.”

Ryan was glad his brother had gotten him tickets for a Sunday afternoon game, because it allowed him to spend his entire Saturday alone, smiling, reveling in the knowledge that the love he’d stumbled into was mutual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> expect another chapter today, probably, and then another Tomorrow and then the final chapter on friday. thanks for comin' on this crazy journey with me, y'all. love you.


	18. the holidays

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no music this time, but it does introduce a few of my other favorite buzzships as background pairings!
> 
> once again beta-d by yesi. i owe her my life.
> 
> enjoy!

As they often did for the Bergaras, the holidays passed in a whirlwind of family parties and ridiculously good food. Ryan spent a lot of his time in his childhood home, helping his mother cook and his father decorate. He and Jake broke out their old SNES and played Mario Kart late into the night like they were little kids again. It was nice, a return to the normal he’d had before he’d gone to Chicago, and it felt good to get back to his family-oriented roots.

He took plenty of pictures and sent them to Shane and Jen with various versions of “wish you were here” - Shane’s, obviously, were a little more romantic and pining and tinged with longing, but he missed Jen’s bubbly personality just as much as he missed Shane in general.

Christmas felt a little somber, even though the entire extended Bergara family had piled into Ryan’s parents’ house. Being around all the cousins and aunts and uncles and having them ask if Ryan was still single really hammered home how lonely the holidays were when his boyfriend and partner was so far away. “I’m dating someone,” he told them all several times. “He lives in Chicago. He’s great.”

He’d ended up asking Shane to take a selfie so he could show him off, and Shane obliged - he was wearing a cozy-looking sweater and posing with an older woman. 

_ Here’s me and Mom! Miss you. _

** _tell her i said hi and merry christmas._ **

Ryan’s grandmother cooed over his “tall and handsome man,” stealing his phone to show him off to all of the relatives in attendance. It made Ryan blush, but he took it as well as he could - his grandmother was sweet, after all, and it was better than them being uncomfortable with him dating a man. Jake, of course, had to say “I don’t see what you see in him” and Ryan smacked him on the arm, earning them a yell from Ryan’s mother.

He reported back to Shane the day after Christmas, and Shane just laughed at him. “Hey, next Christmas I’ll come out and spend it with you, and then your grandma can show me off in person. I’m a gentleman. I’ll give her my arm and everything.”

Ryan threw his head back and laughed. “Dude, you’d tower over her. I need to see that.”

It wasn’t until after they hung up that the implication that they’d still be together next holiday really hit him.

He let that warm thought carry him through the end of December - New Year’s Eve loomed in front of him, and he knew it would be hard to handle alone. Zach had planned a low-key, casual end of the year dinner out at one of their favorite spots, friendly and affordable; it would just be a few of their friends from work, and a couple people Zach knew outside of work too. It was an easy way for him to keep his mind occupied instead of floating back to Chicago like it had been all the time.

Ryan hadn’t expected Keith to be there, and apparently his surprise showed on his face. “Zach and I have been best friends for years,” he explained, and Zach nodded enthusiastically.

“I told him if he does anything boss-like tonight he’s gonna get kicked out.”

“And he threatened to make me eat his cooking.” Keith grimaced, and Ryan sat next to Zach, who was laughing quietly to himself. “That’s a fate I wouldn’t wish on anyone.”

Keith was a pretty cool guy, much like everyone who had come out with them. There were only a few faces Ryan didn’t recognize, and the chair next to Keith stayed conspicuously empty. 

Ryan was introduced to Annie, who had come with Adam; she was soft-spoken but incredibly cool when she opened up. She struck him as the kind of person that would get along great with tons of his friends - Shane, TJ, and Jen came to mind immediately, and as she made him laugh at a stupid joke, he hoped one day she’d get to meet them.

Andrew was talking about a particularly colorful client he and Steven had worked for, making all of them laugh including Keith, when a tall and handsome man approached their table. He took his leather jacket off before he sat in the seat next to Keith and sighed, making enough noise to stop the conversation dead in its tracks. “Sorry to interrupt, guys. Traffic was crazy on the way here.” Andrew waved him off, and the guy smiled, reaching for the drink that was in front of Keith’s plate.

“Oh! Ryan, this is Eugene, one of my other best friends. Eugene, Ryan; he’s my new desk buddy.”

“Good to meet you,” he said, downing the rest of Keith’s beer like it was nothing. Keith didn’t seem to mind, either, and he put his arm around the back of Eugene’s chair.

Wait.

“So this guy,” Andrew continued, and Ryan’s focus was split between him and Keith. “He went out and bought us all giant polka dot golf umbrellas to protect us and our cameras while we shot. It was so fucking ridiculous. I wish someone had taken a picture of what we looked like.”

“I still have mine,” Steven said with a grin, shoveling some of his steak into his mouth. “It’s, like, way too big to be useful except if you’re at the beach.”

As Steven said that, Keith shifted and kissed Eugene’s cheek. Eugene didn’t look pleased, but he didn’t move away, and Keith’s smile as he turned back to the conversation was huge - even for Keith.

Huh.

It wasn’t what he’d been expecting, but it was nice.

Eugene fit in with everyone very well - it was obvious he’d been a part of this group long before Ryan showed up, and he was witty in a way that caught Ryan off-guard. Everything was laced with biting sarcasm that kept making Ryan cackle.

“I hate the holidays,” he was explaining to Annie and Ryan; Zach rolled his eyes, and Keith sighed fondly. “But I ended up spending them with Keith and Zach and Ned and Ariel. Ned and his wife flew out from Chicago for us.”

“Aw, that’s nice!” Annie said with a smile. “It’s like spending Christmas with your whole family!”

“Yeah, since, y’know, most of my biological family died in the war.”

“Eugene, you can’t just tell people that!”

Annie and Ryan were laughing so hard, Ryan almost missed his response.

“But it’s true!”

Keith and Zach’s frustrated sighs only made Ryan and Annie laugh harder, and Eugene kept them laughing for the duration of the dinner. He, Keith, and Zach bounced off each other in a way that was effortless and easy, and it was a delight to watch.

Shane got candid photos and snippets of the stories shared over dinner - the same stuff Ryan would relay to his best friend, because that’s what Shane was before Shane was his boyfriend. He saw enough of Ryan’s life to still feel like an active part of it, even two thousand miles away. Shane, of course, did the same in return. Ryan got clips from band rehearsals and pictures of family dinners and stories about Mark’s latest crochet project.

Even though Ryan’s heart ached to be in Chicago, things were as good as they could have been for now.

New Year’s Eve brought with it a phone call at ten o’clock; Shane was clearly at a party - Ryan could hear Zack yelling in the background as Auld Lang Syne played. “Happy new year, Ry,” was all Shane said, voice soft and tender and sweet, the  _ I love you _ still unspoken but very much there.

“I mean, I’m still in December, but happy new year to you too, big guy.” Ryan settled back into Andrew’s couch, getting comfortable while Annie and Adam brought out another tray of snacks from the kitchen. He nodded his thanks. “How’s the future? Is the world on fire yet?”

Shane chuckled, and it was so warm it made Ryan feel warmer where he sat. “Not yet, no. The, uh… the future’s lookin’ bright, Ryan. I have a feeling this year’s gonna be a really good one.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why, but… it’s gonna be great.” Someone - it sounded like Brent - yelled in the background, louder and closer than before, and Shane laughed. “I better go. Wish I coulda kissed you at midnight.”

That softness, so unusual for Shane, made Ryan’s heart ache, and he sighed. “Yeah. Ditto. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“Yeah. Night, Ry.”

At midnight, Ryan sent a slew of kissy face emojis to Shane for him to find when he woke up.

Shane’s prediction of a good new year seemed to come true pretty quickly - Ryan got assigned to a two week long project filming in northern California at various vineyards with Alix Traeger and Rie McClenny, local restaurateurs, and Shane got offered a spot covering for a teacher who had sprained her ankle and would be out of work for six weeks while it healed. 

“She can barely put pressure on it,” Shane had told him on their nightly phone call when he got the news. “She’s really scared about lost wages, but a couple of her students are organizing a fundraiser for her.”

“That’s sweet but also… what kind of fucking place are we in when students have to cover someone losing pay?”

“I know.”

Shane ended up working regular hours, teaching kids basic US History, and from the stories he told, he was getting kids engaged in a way they’d never been before. “It’s easy to make people care. Just make the history a little more human!”

The more consistent schedule also meant he’d have money to go on a trip once the teacher he was covering for returned. “I heard LA’s nice this time of year.”

Ryan was thrilled.

Shooting at vineyards for two weeks in Napa Valley wasn’t ideal, but it was luxurious in a way Chicago hadn’t been. Alix and Rie were both supremely nice and fun to be around - Andrew was directing, Adam was producing, and Quinta and Steven were around for audio and camera work. Andrew, Adam, and Steven had already met and adored Rie, so the shoot felt more like a group of friends reuniting and hanging out than work. Alix was a riot, and Rie was an angel, and each night they treated the crew to a good dinner.

Ryan wanted to direct, and that had always been the grand plan, but if work would bring him places like this with people as warm as the ones he’d found, he could stand this a lot longer than he’d originally thought he could.

Their last night on location at a vineyard ended with a big dinner that Alix and Rie prepared for them all together. It was extravagant and delicious; Adam facetimed Annie from the table, and her groan when she saw the food spread out on the table before them made everyone laugh. “I’m sorry, Annie!” Rie called from her seat. “I will make you something like this when we get back!”

“You’re the worst boyfriend ever,” she told Adam, and he just laughed.

“Love you,” he said in a sing-song voice, and Annie just laughed and flipped him off.

The wine they’d had with dinner and dessert left Ryan feeling warm and cozy, and he was grateful he hadn’t really unpacked in his hotel room - it made preparing to leave so much easier, and he shed his jeans and t-shirt for a pair of sweatpants. He was settling into bed, pillows nearly swallowing him whole as he did, when his phone rang.

He was going to ignore it until he saw it was Shane.

“Hey, baby,” he said softly, pulling the sheets up around his face a bit more. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Shane said, and even though everything was supposedly okay, he sounded a little breathless. “Just… got some news. I don’t wanna share it yet because nothing’s official, but.”

“But.”

“It’s good. It could be really good.”

Ryan was wracking his brain - he didn’t like things to be vague like this, because it opened up so many opportunities for his anxiety-fueled imagination to run wild. “O… kay?” He wouldn’t push - he never liked to, not with Shane, especially because Shane never pushed him - but he was still obnoxiously curious. “As long as it’s good.”

“Ryan, have you looked at our bandcamp recently?”

The non-sequitur made Ryan pause. “Uh. Not in a while. Why?”

“Do that.” Shane’s voice sounded urgent, even though he also still sounded winded from a run. It made Ryan uneasy, but he listened anyway, putting Shane on speaker so he could pull up the tab from his bookmarks.

The _supported by_ section, which had once only had six or so images, was now full to the point that you had to scroll several times to see all of the people who had bought albums. There were a dozen reviews as well.

“Holy shit.”

“I know, Ry. We, uh. We’ve sold six thousand copies according to Bandcamp.”

Ryan could almost picture Shane’s face, overwhelmed and disbelieving and so genuinely happy, and it warmed his heart before the shock set in. “That’s… Shane, that’s  _ so many.”  _ Ryan swallowed hard and took his phone off speaker. “How the hell?”

“A combination of you turning people onto the album and Ned’s advice.” Shane huffed out a laugh. “Ned, Ariel’s husband? He works in marketing, and when I told him about the album, he gave us a list of ideas to get it out there. Youtube, search engine optimization, stuff like that. Brent took a day to get it done, and apparently it worked. We’re… we’re doing really well. Brent’s working on uploading it to Spotify too. So people can find us easier.”

“Shane, that’s incredible.” This was what Ryan had wanted for the Skeptics from the start - he’d given them the jumping off point, and now they were finally reaching a point where they were growing enough for it to matter. “That’s… I’m so fucking proud of you guys.”

“We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” Shane said, voice honest and earnest in a way that cut straight through to Ryan’s heart. “Seriously. You’re… you’re the reason for all of this. I’m so, so glad I met you.”

The tears that welled up surprised Ryan, and he did his best to choke them back. “Me too.”

“I’ve gotta get some sleep, Ry, but… I’ll call you tomorrow. Hopefully I’ll have some good news for you. Okay?”

“Okay. G’night.”

Shane hung up unceremoniously - clearly whatever this news was had him rattled in a good way, and Ryan knew he wouldn’t be getting much sleep as a result. He could only hope the wine helped him get a few hours of rest, because he had a long drive ahead of him the next day.

***

He was halfway home to Los Angeles when his phone rang, and he pulled over into the breakdown lane to answer it. He plugged in his headphones and made sure the mic was near his mouth before he swiped and breathed out a hello.

“Ryan,” was all Shane said, and the way his voice sounded - a little tense, a little excited, a little breathless - had Ryan on edge immediately.

“Yeah?”

“We got it.”

Ryan merged back out onto the highway safely before he responded. “What’s it, Shane?”

“We got an offer. We’re gonna be playing for them in March.”

He had to laugh. “Shane, you’re like forty steps ahead of me. Back it up. What the fuck are you talking about?”

Shane paused, and Ryan swore he could hear him laughing breathlessly on the other end. “Two days ago we got an email from someone at Island Records.”

“Holy shit.”

“No, hold on, wait. Ryan. We got an email from someone at Island Records. Somehow, someone had heard Brent’s Basement over there. And this person really liked it. Like…  _ really _ liked it.”

Ryan was a smart man - he could start putting pieces of the puzzle together and sort of see where this was going. “Shane.”

“And they want us to come out. Play for them.”

_ “Shane.” _

“We can’t do it until the schools here are on break, but… in March, we’re all flying out to Los Angeles.”

Ryan pulled back over; tears were already filling his vision and he wasn’t going to risk his life because of it. As soon as he was safe in the breakdown lane again, he let them fall, and he could hear Shane laughing wetly on the other end. “You’re gonna be here.”

“We’re gonna be there. We might be getting a fucking record deal, baby.”

The sob that made its way out of Ryan’s throat would’ve been embarrassing if Shane’s voice didn’t go fond and honey-sweet after he heard it.

“I hope it wasn’t too presumptuous of me to assume I could stay with you while we’re there. The rest of the guys are getting hotel rooms, but… I just thought…”

“Yes, you fucking idiot. Stay with me. Please. Let me pick you up from the airport. Please, Shane, oh my god.”

“We’ll be out there on March 13th. Start the countdown, Ry. ‘Cause we’ll see you soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my very shaky grasp on How the music industry actually works is showing but let's just pretend i nailed it, thanks.


	19. week of march 13th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow. here it is. the final chapter before the epilogue. everything's bad right now but i hope things brings you some happiness wherever you may be. once again, i owe yesi my life for beta-ing this.
> 
> [here's the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4uHYeDWXug) featured in this chapter.
> 
> enjoy.

March 13th seemed like it was years away, and time crawled by - then, suddenly, it was the 12th and Ryan had a ton of cleaning to do. He left work early - Keith knew he had “a family thing” to get ready for, and he’d been fine with letting him take a day or two. Ryan had no projects on his plate anyway, and Adam had offered to pick up the little bit of editing he’d agreed to help Quinta with. 

“This is big for you or whatever, so.” Adam had just shrugged, and Ryan knew he’d have to text Annie to figure out what Adam liked enough to get as a thank you gift.

Cleaning his apartment was more difficult than he’d thought it would be - his closet was a mess and he had trouble closing it, and he didn’t really have space for his suitcases or his camera gear anywhere out of sight. He did a few loads of laundry, pulled most of the offending garments out of his closet to refold and rehang and squeeze back in in an attempt to get the doors to close, and then loaded his dishwasher. He had Brent’s Basement mixed with a bunch of other songs he loved on a playlist on Spotify, and he let that keep him company while he cleaned.

The amount of dust he brushed off his guitar was embarrassing, frankly. 

He was struggling to get a clean fitted sheet onto his mattress when the Skeptics group chat he’d been added to pinged with a new message, and he let the sheet spring back and bunch up in the center of his bed while he checked it. 

TJ had sent all their flight details along with a rental car confirmation.

That was a relief - Ryan drove a sedan, and he didn’t know how to bring it up to the band that he could only really give Shane a ride from the airport, especially with his gear.

He sent a thumbs up, smiling at his phone like a fool, before he tried to finish making his bed like an adult. 

Shane had forgone their usual nightly conversation - he had to be up early to catch their flight out, and he knew talking to Ryan would get him too excited to sleep. It did nothing to help Ryan relax and get rest; he spent most of the night awake flicking through Netflix and trying - and failing - to fall asleep in various positions.

What little sleep he got was fitful, but when he woke up at nine, like he always did on days off, he felt rested. He attributed it to the anxiety and went through his regular morning routine before he got in his car and headed to LAX.

Shane’s flight hadn’t been delayed, and he’d told Shane he could just text him when he landed; he’d wanted Shane to use the flight to catch up on sleep so he was less likely to fall into the hole that was jet lag, and Shane had hopefully taken that advice.

The very, very sleepy selfie he received as he was heading into the baggage claim at the terminal seemed to say that Shane had.

Ryan twirled his car keys around his finger as he waited by the escalator from the terminal into the area that housed the baggage carousels, just for something to do. He felt fidgety and nervous, though he couldn’t figure out why. He and Shane hadn’t changed much in the six or so months since they’d seen each other last. They’d seen each other often enough over facetime, through selfies and videos shot from the back of the crowd at the Innertown. Shane was still handsome as ever, and Ryan knew he looked good - the California sun was always exceptionally kind to him.

But he was still nervous, even though he knew it was stupid. 

He kept his phone tucked in his back pocket, as hard as that was - if he pulled it out, he’d end up cycling through the same four apps over and over again, which would only make his anxiety worse. His therapist had been helping him work through tiny bad habits like that, and he was proud of himself for remembering what he’d learned even in a high-stress situation like this.

He was in the middle of patting himself on the back when the next wave of people started heading down the escalator that led to the baggage claim from the gates.

Ryan watched all of the people - all of which looked various stages of miserable and tired - file down and past him, waiting for the familiar blond hair or scruff or plaid that he could pick out anywhere in a crowd. 

It took five minutes before he saw someone tall and lanky enough to be Shane, and he froze where he stood. He needed to be sure.

The guy got off the escalator and started heading down towards Ryan, and his long strides sped up as he got closer; Ryan squinted, and he watched as Shane’s face lit up.

He didn’t run across the terminal, but Shane definitely power-walked, and when he arrived where Ryan was standing still, he dropped his duffel bag next to him and pulled Ryan in for their first kiss in months. Ryan melted into it, making a happy noise in the back of his throat, and he wrapped his arms around Shane’s neck.

Shane pulled away quickly, ending the kiss before it even really began, and he smiled down at Ryan. “Hi,” he said softly, voice fond and warm and everything Ryan had been missing since he left Chicago. “I love you.”

The look on Shane’s face had to be a mirror of the one on Ryan’s: shocked but pleased, like the words had caught him off-guard but he wasn’t mad about it at all. He huffed out a laugh, and that broke the spell; Ryan laughed a little too before he stood on his tiptoes.

“I love you too, big guy.”

He was about to press their lips together again when someone groaned next to them. “I know you guys are all happy to see each other and everything, but can you keep it in your pants until you can get a room? Please? It’s too early for this shit.”

Brent looked horrible, like the plane journey had gotten the best of him, and Ryan nodded with a grimace. “Sorry, man.”

That was apparently enough, and Brent pulled him in for a hug; the rest of the band piled on top of him, and Ryan laughed from the center of the group. Shane’s phone’s camera shutter went off, and Ryan knew the moment had been immortalized. He was glad - this was a memory he’d never want to forget.

After they’d all finished hugging Ryan in various sleepy hellos, they shuffled over to the carousel, and TJ went to grab a luggage cart while Ryan and Mark moved forward to grab the bags. “I slept the whole flight,” Mark explained, rolling his shoulders. “The rest of the guys look way too tired, so. We can handle the bags and then they can owe us.”

Shane and Zack pointed out their stuff as it moved by, and Ryan and Mark worked their way to the front to pull it off without hitting anyone in the process. Most of the guys hadn’t checked much beyond their gear - the trip wasn’t going to be a long one. They would be in Los Angeles for a week at most before they headed home; they didn’t need much in the way of clothes, so their carry-ons had functioned as their suitcases. 

Ryan and Mark were especially careful with all of their instruments, and once they were safely in the hands of each band member, Ryan led the sleep-deprived band to the pickup area where they’d get their rental car.

“Shane, I’ll text you when we’re all meeting up to run shit over before we see the execs,” TJ said, looking at his phone to pull up his reservation. “So just, like, keep your phone on and handy.”

“Yeah, I will. Always do.” Shane brushed his hair back from his forehead, and when Ryan looked up at him, the exhaustion was clear on his face. “We’re gonna keep the setlist we discussed, right?”

“I see no reason to change it.” Mark shrugged. “It’s all our strongest stuff, so unless they have specific requests, we’ll stick with it.”

“Cool. See you guys tomorrow.”

Shane shifted his backpack on his back and hoisted his duffle bag onto his shoulder; one of his free hands took his guitar case from Ryan. The other took Ryan’s hand, and a pleasant warmth that had nothing to do with the Los Angeles sun washed over him.

They didn’t talk much as they backtracked a bit to get to the parking garage - Shane kept yawning, and Ryan sympathized. “I don’t have much at home for, like, breakfast foods,” he admitted quietly, thumb brushing over Shane’s knuckles gently. “We could stop someplace if you want.”

Shane shook his head. “Honestly, I kinda just wanna go to your place, drop my shit off, and then go get coffee. Is there a coffee place near you?”

Ryan nodded and smiled. “Yeah. It’s really good, too. They have insanely good pastries and stuff.”

“Mm, perfect. I figure we can hit up that taco truck for dinner - y’know, the one you told me about when you moved back? If the guys aren’t in bed early, we could ask them to tag along. Or it could be a date. Up to you.”

Unlocking his car with the key fob, Ryan shrugged. “We’ll figure it out when it’s actually time. You might actually end up in bed early too, no matter how much you think you can beat the jet lag.”

“I’m stronger than you think I am,” Shane said, tone challenging Ryan in that easy, teasing way they’d always adopted. Their banter hadn’t suffered for their months apart, and that was comforting. “You’ll see.” He put his bags in the trunk and then moved past Ryan to slide his guitar into the backseat; it was after that that he moved forward to wrap his arms around Ryan and rest his head on Ryan’s hair.

“I missed you,” Ryan said softly, leaning forward to press his face into Shane’s chest. He was warm, and it was a little uncomfortable in the heat, sure, but it was worth it just to have Shane here and present again. “Like, real bad, dude.”

“Right back at you, baby.” His voice sounded tired but there was a deep happiness beneath that, and Ryan wanted to wrap himself up in it forever. He sounded like home to him, and having him here in Los Angeles was the most comforting thing he could possibly imagine.

They stood there, holding each other in the parking garage of what was arguably the worst airport in America, for far longer than they should have. Ryan had to be the one to pull away, and when he did, he pressed an apologetic kiss to Shane’s lips. “C’mon, big guy,” he said softly. “Let’s go home.”

***

Ryan’s frantic cleaning had left his apartment in a decent state, and when Shane walked in, he whistled appreciatively. It wasn’t much - honestly, his apartment was tiny, but it had a small little balcony overlooking his neighborhood. The view wasn’t great, but it still felt a little luxurious to have it. Ryan’s movie collection was settled in two bookshelves surrounding his TV, and that’s where Shane headed first after dropping his bags by the door.

“Wow, and they said physical media was dying.”

That got a chuckle out of Ryan, and he shrugged. “Netflix could pull my favorite movies at any time, y’know? I’d rather have ‘em here just in case. ‘Cause the day Inglourious Basterds is pulled from streaming I  _ know _ I’m gonna wanna watch it immediately.”

Shane nodded as he hunched down to look at more shelves. “That makes sense. You have… a lot of good choices. We’ll have to watch something together while I’m here.”

“For sure. I’d really, really like that.”

Something on Ryan’s shelf made Shane’s eyes widen, and he turned and went for his backpack. “I almost forgot,” he said quietly, rummaging through his stuff. “It’s a little late, but I figured you wouldn’t mind. Time is an illusion and all that.” He stood back up with a wrinkly little package in damaged wrapping paper. “Merry Christmas,” Shane said softly, handing the present over and kissing Ryan gently. 

“Shit, man, I didn’t get you anything!” Ryan held the package in his hands like it was made of solid gold - he’d almost forgotten what it was like to be bowled over by how thoughtful Shane was. “We agreed we wouldn’t do presents.”

“Well, I changed my mind. C’mon, man, open it.”

Ryan did, and he had to laugh when the paper peeled away to reveal Pulp Fiction on blu ray. His laughter was full and bright, and Shane laughed along with him.

“I told you I’d fix you!”

“Shut up, Shane.”

The kiss he pressed to Shane’s lips was tender and loving; it made up for all the kisses they’d missed while they were apart, and Shane’s hands slipped down off his hips and down into Ryan’s back pockets. Ryan’s hands moved up into Shane’s hair, and he stood on his tiptoes so that Shane could stand up a bit straighter. Shane hummed; when he pulled away, it was slowly, and Ryan chased it until he couldn’t anymore.

“We should go get that coffee we discussed.”

Ryan nodded and took a few reluctant steps back. “Yeah. And I’ll show you around a little. Since you’re here for a little while.”

“Hopefully more than just a little while,” Shane said softly. “I won’t make any promises I can’t keep, but if we get signed…”

Ryan kissed him just to stop him from talking.

“Don’t get my hopes up yet, Shane. Please.”

“Okay.”

They headed out together, hand in hand, without another word.

***

The best part about taking Shane around on his turf meant they skipped all of the touristy nonsense Shane would’ve gotten roped into otherwise. He did take him to the Santa Monica Pier if only for popcorn and a photo op with Shane radiant against the backdrop of the Pacific. They got tacos from that amazing taco truck, like Shane had asked for, and the rest of the guys in the band had joined them only so they could experience real Mexican food.

For a first day together, it had been productive and wonderful and everything Ryan had secretly hoped for since Shane told him he’d be visiting.

They ended up curled together on Ryan’s couch, Ryan settled between Shane’s spread legs, Kill Bill volume one playing on the TV. Shane had been too tired to watch Pulp Fiction, so they’d settled for Ryan’s favorite Tarantino film as a compromise; it also gave them the space to talk, because they both knew the movie back to front.

“When are you guys playing for them?” Ryan asked quietly, lacing his fingers with Shane’s on his stomach. “You guys are here ‘til the 18th, right?”

“We play for them on Friday,” he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to Ryan’s hair. “Tomorrow we’re gonna rehearse one last time - we pitched in on renting a rehearsal space for a few hours. Then Friday at eleven we go in.”

Ryan nodded. “I can’t take any extra time off work, but…”

“Hey. Just knowing I get to see you at the end of the day is enough for me.” He watched the TV long enough to watch Lucy Liu tell GoGo to “tear the bitch apart” before he shifted, and Ryan sat up. “There’s actually a song I want to play you,” he said, and he awkwardly shuffled backward in the limited space so he could free his leg from between Ryan and the back of the couch. “If that’s okay. I wrote it in January and it’s almost finished but…I want you to hear it the way it is now.”

Ryan got up so that Shane could move off the couch, and he watched him head back towards the front door, where his guitar case was sitting. When he came back, he took a seat in the one armchair Ryan had, and against all his better judgment, Ryan took a seat on the floor.

Shane strummed a few times before he adjusted the tuning a little, and he hummed something Ryan couldn’t quite make out under his breath. “Okay,” he said once everything was settled. “Like I said, this is… raw. It probably wouldn’t be this raw if we performed it live.”

And with that, he started playing.

The melody was soft and gentle, and it wasn’t just because it was acoustic - the song itself was tender, and when Shane started singing, Ryan felt tears well up.

_ “Heaven’s gates are behind your eyes,” _ he sang, voice soft and sweet and smooth.  _ “And I see your face every time there’s orange skies. It’s a miracle that you even found me.” _

Just like when Jen had shown him the band playing Forever Like That, it hit him that that doubt, that unsureness of meaning, wasn’t applicable here. This was written expressly for him, and Shane had chosen all the words that meant exactly what he was feeling.

_ “Did you know that it’s your love, it’s your love, it’s your love that keeps me walking on.” _

As soon as Shane sang the word  _ love, _ the tears fell, and Shane just smiled through the rest of the chorus. Ryan tried his best to keep his face dry, but he knew he was fighting a losing battle from the start.

Ryan had never expected to be loved like this in his life, and now that he knew how it felt, he was never going to be able to go back to living without it.

_ “With just a touch, you brought me to my knees. I surrender I surrender I surrender,” _ Shane sang, eyes fluttering shut as he gave himself over to the song a little more.  _ “I was just a heart looking for a fault line, I wanted to fall.” _

Ryan’s tears slowed as the song wound down and finished with a simple strum, and Shane looked at him expectantly.

“So? What do you think?”

Ryan sniffled and wiped at his eyes with the heel of his hand before he scoffed. “Are my tears not speaking for themselves? Do you really need me to stroke your ego, Madej?”

Shane barked out a laugh, and Ryan grinned at him. “Seriously, though. That’s… beautiful. It’s amazing. I love you.”

“I love you too, if that wasn’t glaringly obvious.”

Ryan stood up and grabbed the remote, turning off the forgotten movie and TV, and then he held out his hand. “Is it too forward of me to ask you to come to bed?”

Shane’s smile was as soft as his voice had been, and he gently set his guitar aside before taking Ryan’s hand in his own. “Not at all.”

It felt almost like a mirror of the first time he’d stayed over with Shane; they undressed quietly and settled into bed, content just to be together and close like this. Ryan’s head found its familiar spot resting on Shane’s chest, and Shane rubbed his back gently through his t-shirt. There was no urgency, no need to do anything beyond exist in a shared space. This, for now, was enough.

“Y’know, of all the things I had to give up when you moved away, this is the one I’ve missed the most.”

“Yeah,” Ryan breathed, throwing one of his legs over Shane’s for that extra closeness. “Me too.”

***

Leaving Shane in bed to go to work was easily the hardest thing life had ever thrown at him. Shane was given the luxury of sleeping in, but Ryan had to be on his way out the door by eight - Shane, the bastard, whined as Ryan attempted to get out of bed, tightening his arms around him, and it didn’t make it any easier to pry himself away to take a shower.

Of course, his mind kept drifting back to Shane in his bed all day at work, too.

Curly kept teasing him from across the room when he was taking breaks from editing. “Ay, Bergara. I’m surprised you can sit today.”

“Fuck off, Curly,” he said fondly, shoving him away in his wheely chair. “I’m gonna report you.”

“You wouldn’t because without me your life would be so boring.”

Ryan rolled his eyes but didn’t correct him. Even vaguely implying Curly was right would make his life infinitely more difficult for the next week or so.

He wouldn’t trade Curly and all his bullshit for the world.

“Tonight we should take the guys out,” he continued. “There’s a place in Koreatown Steven won’t shut up about, and we were already gonna go there after work. If they’re all free, they should tag along.”

“That sounds awesome, yeah. Lemme just text ‘em, they should be outta rehearsal.”

By the time Ryan had finished the commercial he was working on - he’d sent it off to Keith for his final approval, but he was pretty sure both he and the client would be pleased - the whole band had agreed to meet up with them in Koreatown. Ryan pestered Steven for an address as they were gathering up their stuff to leave, and once he had it, he shot it off to the Skeptics group chat.

Curly rode there with Ryan in Ryan’s car, and he put on an album he’d been meaning to send him for a few weeks. The music had a good beat, and Ryan drummed his hands on the steering wheel as he fought through the rush hour traffic to get to K-town; Andrew and Steven and Adam had carpooled together, and Zach had invited Eugene, who was waiting for them as they pulled into the parking lot.

“Hey y’all,” he said with a little half-wave. “Andrew already got us a couple tables, I’m just waiting for Zach and Keith.”

“Cool, man.” Ryan self-consciously fixed his hair - Eugene always made him feel scruffy and underdressed, but considering he was a model, that was to be expected - and locked his car once he was sure Curly was out. “Has the band shown up?”

Eugene nodded. “The hipster-looking guys? Yeah, they’re inside catching up with Andrew and Steven. The tall one told me to tell you he saved you a seat.”

Ryan nodded - Eugene was just generally bad with remembering names, and people often interpreted that as rude or cold. It wasn’t a slight against Shane, and it made him laugh a little. “Awesome. Keith should be here soon, dude, he couldn’t have left much later than we did.”

“Great. Love the guy, but his workaholic side kinda drives me crazy sometimes,” Eugene said. With a little wave, Eugene turned back to watching the parking lot and scrolling through things on his phone, and Ryan and Curly headed inside.

The restaurant was warm and casual inside, and it wasn’t hard to find their designated tables - they were tucked in a back corner, far enough away from the majority of the dining room to not be a hassle. Their group would be respectful, but he could tell that the staff would be dreading dealing with them.

Steven and Andrew, because these groups and food adventures normally started with them, always made up for it by making sure everyone in the group tipped forty percent at least.

The two of them were sitting at one of the two tables the host had given them - the one closest to the kitchen doors - with TJ and Mark, who were listening to Steven rattle off tons of information about his favorite dishes. Andrew was reading through the beer menu, and every now and then he’d say a name to Brent one table over, who would read something silently and then voice his opinion.

It felt a little like they were all back in Chicago, but with a few old faces swapped out for new ones.

Shane was sitting with Brent and Zack at their table - Adam was also there, and he kept tapping at the tabletop anxiously with his phone. Ryan slid into the seat Shane had saved for him, kissed him quickly, and then immediately turned to him. “You good, dude?”

“Yeah. Just… waiting to see if Annie’s coming.”

The anxiety radiating off of Adam was almost palpable to Ryan, who was all too familiar with that feeling, and he immediately went into trying to help Adam feel better. “Oh, Shane, you would love Annie. She’s like you but way more tolerable.”

Shane gave Ryan a look, and for a moment, they communicated with expression alone - Shane was able to read the please play along on Ryan’s face immediately, and he rolled his eyes. “Right. ‘Cause I’m so intolerable you decided to keep dating me when you left.”

That got a tiny little smirk out of Adam, and Ryan considered that a win.

“I never said I made good choices.”

Adam shook his head and looked down, and that was as good as a laugh, so Ryan nudged Shane under the table for him to continue.

“If she’s like me, I’ll get along with her great! I love myself!” Shane intentionally sat up a little straighter and gestured a little more - he was being a little over-the-top, but it was enough to help everyone around them feel a little more comfortable. “How’s she different, though?”

“Well, she’s less loud and annoying, for one.”

Adam laughed at that. “Only around you guys.”

Ryan scoffed, and that got Adam talking about the Annie he got to see all the time - he really relaxed when he started talking about her, and Shane found an opening to shift the conversation to shared interests. By the time they’d finished talking, Adam was completely comfortable around the people they’d been sitting with, Annie had texted that she was on her way, and Zach, Keith, and Eugene had made their way inside.

Shane squeezed Ryan’s thigh under the table and winked.

Once they came in, time flew by; everyone got along great, and Ryan sat back a bit and just watched the merger of his friend groups happen. TJ had started going off about a movie he’d loved, and Adam and Andrew were interjecting with their favorite scenes, and Mark and Zach were talking about music videos. 

“If you guys don’t get a deal - and from what I know, you guys totally will - I’m still totally willing to volunteer to make one for the band. We could do something like, y’know, OK Go’s old viral videos? Low budget, high reward,” Zach offered.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” Mark nodded a few times. “We really need to capitalize on this whole guerilla marketing, viral kind of thing. That’s… really smart.”

Zach shrugged. “I’m known to be intelligent once in a while,” he said with a smile.

It was then that Curly raised his plastic cup and tapped his fork against it to call attention to himself. It worked - silence fell over their tables, even though the tapping noise was faint. “Thank you, thank you.” He smiled as he looked at the group that was gathered there - a hodge-podge of Ryan’s friends from Chicago and Los Angeles, missing a few faces but solid and comfortable regardless. “Now we’re all here for good food, obviously, but I think we’re also all here for this white boy indie band that we all love.”

Shane laughed and ducked his head while Ryan rolled his eyes next to him. “I’m never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Nope.”

Annie laughed into her hand and Curly smirked before he continued.

“Anyway. I propose a toast. To the Skeptics and their impending record deal.” He said it with a sense of finality and certainty that warmed Ryan’s heart; it was nice to know that his friends believed in the band as much as he did. “We all know y’all are amazing. This is just the start of a crazy-ass journey.”

Ryan raised his beer in agreement, and he watched Shane’s face as the rest of the people gathered at their tables do the same. It was almost a ripple effect, and Shane’s face was steady; Ryan, though, knew. He could see the faintest twitch of deep, genuine emotion, and he could tell that Shane was touched.

TJ was less subtle about it, and the group all pretended to not see the tears welling up in his eyes. His smile made it obvious he appreciated it.

“To the Skeptics!”

***

Ryan had left for work with a long kiss and a sincere, loaded “good luck” the morning of the meeting. TJ had agreed to pick Shane up at Ryan’s apartment, so Shane encouraged Ryan to head to work on time. “Don’t be late on my account,” he’d said, kissing Ryan one last time. “I’ll text you once the meeting’s over with news.”

“Fuck that, man, I’m taking a half-day. I’m not missing out on this. It’s Island, right? Their offices are like, someplace I can go?”

Shane smiled fondly. “Yes, Ry. They are. You’re ridiculous.”

“But that’s why you love me.”

“It’s a part of it, yeah.”

Even though he’d only be at work until noon, Ryan was jittery and scatterbrained the entire time he was at his desk - luckily, for him, he was just working on pitches for a few local companies in talks to have him direct some commercials. The give-and-take nature of collaboration in the emails made it a little easier to get stuff done, even though his mind and heart were halfway across the city.

He kept his phone laying face-down on his desk on do not disturb; he knew if it vibrated even once, he’d be tempted to check it, and he didn’t want to keep psyching himself out.  _ Shane will keep you posted, but nothing’s going to happen before noon. Fucking relax. _

Zach and Adam kept snickering whenever they looked at him. “Dude. You should’ve just gone with him,” Zach said softly. “You’re like, about to vibrate to the moon.”

“Shut up.”

“Seriously, I get it, but like… you can go. I think Keith’ll understand.”

Ryan shook his head. “The meeting’s at…” He looked at the clock and sighed. “The meeting’s starting now, so. I’m staying ‘til noon. Nothing’s gonna happen until like, one anyway.”

“You’re smart.” Adam adjusted his headphones and sat back in his chair a bit. “At least in theory.”

“Yeah, it’s, uh… it’s not really keeping my mind off of things right now.” Ryan shrugged and laughed a little. “I think I’m more nervous than Shane is right now.”

“I don’t think Shane really experiences fear.” Zach’s face looked a little scared as he thought of the implications there.

That made Ryan cackle. “I mean, you’re probably not wrong.” He shrugged and refreshed his inbox. “I just… this is big. This is huge. This is…”

“Potentially life-changing for both of you, yeah.” Adam nodded, eyes still focused on his screen. “But dwelling on it’s just gonna make time drag. So. Don’t.”

“Easier said than done, man.”

Luckily, though, the clients he was working with were responsive and creative, and by the time he finished another concept pitch synthesizing both of their ideas, it was noon. 

“Go see your boy,” Zach said with a grin, standing up to take lunch himself. “Let us know how it goes!”

Ryan didn’t check his phone until he was sitting in his car, and when he did, he was greeted with a very cute selfie of the band, accompanied by a “Going in now, love you!” text. He sent a few blue hearts in response, knowing Shane wouldn’t respond, before he started the drive across Los Angeles.

Traffic, of course, was miserable, and his phone stayed on do not disturb for the duration of his drive. He just hoped that no matter what happened, it didn’t happen before Ryan arrived at the offices. He wanted to be there to see his band and greet them as they headed back into the real world, newly signed artists or dejected.

He didn’t arrive until one, and as he entered the lobby, he noticed TJ and Zack heading out from a hallway, huge smiles on their faces.

“Guys?”

Zack looked over and laughed, and he and TJ power-walked over to Ryan to crush him in a hug. Ryan, after making a noise that was almost a squeak at the suddenness of it, laughed into their ears. “Good news?”

“Yeah, man,” Zack said, voice soft and thick with unshed tears. “Yeah, good news. Fuck. Dude.”

The hug lasted a little longer than all their hugs had before, and when they pulled away, Mark and Brent were right there to take their place. “We couldn’t have done this without you, Ryan,” Mark said, serious and sincere and genuine in a way that tugged at Ryan’s heartstrings. “Thank you.”

“I… don’t thank me, man, this was all you.”

“It wasn’t. It was fifty-fifty.”

Mark and Brent let Ryan go so that he could see him - Shane, standing tall, a disbelieving smile on his face. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a breath before he wrapped his arms around Ryan and kissed him once. It was only when he pulled away that he spoke again.

“The Skeptics are signed to Island Records.” Ryan could hear the smile in Shane’s voice as he leaned back to look at him. “We have, uh. We have a three EP, one album deal for now.” 

Ryan felt the tears coming and he did nothing to stop them, and Shane laughed a little, incredulous as he, too, started to tear up. “The contract is… pretty basic. But I did fight them for one thing.”

Sniffing, Ryan wiped at his eyes and nodded. “Yeah? What’s that?”

“I pick the director for our first few music videos.”

“Okay?” Ryan said, confused. 

“Oh, Ryan.” That intense, sweet fondness crept back into Shane’s voice, and Ryan heard it for the  _ I love you _ that it was. “My pick is  _ you. _ If you want to work with us, that is.”

The words took a little too long to sink in; they hit slowly, and as they did, Ryan’s eyes widened. “You…”

“Want to hire  _ you, _ Ryan Steven Bergara, as a director on our first three music videos. Songs have not been chosen or anything yet, obviously, but… we’d collaborate. As a band.” Shane purposefully looked at the other guys for a moment, nodding.

“I… of course? Shane—” He couldn’t really find the words to express anything he was feeling - he was just overwhelmed, and the tears fell a little more steadily as he stared up at Shane, who was smiling gently at him.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” Shane’s smile faltered a little as he looked up and sniffed, fighting back tears of his own. “It wouldn’t feel right to do this without you, ‘cause you’re a part of this as much as any of us are.”

_ “Shane--” _

“Ryan, without you, we never would have gotten this opportunity. We’re only here because of  _ you.” _

Ryan looked over to the rest of the band, and they were all nodding. 

“Seriously,” Brent said. “You’re a Skeptic as much as any of us are - like, the band kind, not the Scully kind.”

That got everyone laughing, and Ryan pulled Shane a little bit closer as they did. As the laughter died down, all of them settled into a content, pleased silence.

It was TJ who broke it. “Fuck, man, we have to  _ apartment hunt _ now.” 

Mark was the first to break into laughter, and the rest of them had to crack up too. It was almost hysterical, giddy off the joy of knowing that their dream was actually coming true.

“Apartment hunting sucks,” Ryan said, doing his best to sound sympathetic. “I’ll keep an eye out for good ones, though. When the time comes.”

TJ held out his fist and Ryan bumped his against it. “Thanks, man.”

Ryan nodded a few times, only looking back up at Shane when Shane cleared his throat. “And when the time comes…”

This time, Ryan’s brain worked a little faster, and he realized what Shane was hinting at almost immediately. “Are you kidding? Yes! Yes, fucking move in with me, Shane, please.”

Shane’s laughter was bright and airy, and Ryan swallowed it in a kiss, warm and filled with the promise of their future.

And the future was looking pretty fucking bright from where he was standing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the epilogue will be coming later tonight because i'm still working on some extra stuff for it. it will, however, be posted before i go to the bed for the night.
> 
> love y'all.


	20. epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow. we're really here. we really made it.
> 
> once again, endless thanks to [yesi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveontherocks/pseuds/loveontherocks) for being my rock during this whole process and also beta-ing this as well.
> 
> there's only one new song featured in this chapter. please refrain from listening to it until shane starts talking about the most important song he's ever written. there's a moment in it that'll hit real hard and it made me cry when i wrote it, so. [here's the song.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Rb0oIXrsqQ)
> 
> stick around for the end note, and thank you in advance for coming on this ride with me. for one last time - enjoy.

Ryan looked at himself in the mirror and ran a hand over his jawline. He looked good - the suit was incredibly well-tailored from a high-end shop at Curly’s recommendation, so of course it would make him look phenomenal. There was still a tiny, irritating shred of self-consciousness looming, though, and as he went to mess with his hair again, a hand grabbed his wrist and pulled it away.

“Don’t. You look amazing. Stop stressing, this isn’t even about you - all the eyes are gonna be on _ me _ tonight,” Shane teased, grinning.

He was right, of course. Ryan was just another guest at the fancy party Island Records was throwing for the Skeptics. Their debut album released at midnight, and the bash was slated to last until then, so that their friends and family and industry folks could celebrate with them.

Ryan was only excited because so many of their shared friends, from Chicago and Los Angeles alike, would be there. Shane’s entire family had flown out to be a part of it, and Ryan’s family had driven up to meet them - mostly because he’d told his mom and dad and brother about his plan, which was tucked in the inner pocket of his jacket.

The proposal wasn’t going to be anything huge or public; that wasn’t Ryan’s style, and he had a feeling Shane wouldn’t like the spotlight on him during such an emotionally charged moment.

But the timing was right. They’d been dating for a little over three years, they’d been living together for more than two, and Ryan knew Shane was _ it _ for him. He’d kept it secret - his immediate family, Jen, and TJ were the only ones who he told, mostly to gauge their reactions to it. They’d all been on board, and that was enough for Ryan. Maybe other people would think they were moving too fast; they, however, didn’t get a say.

Shane wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist as he stood behind him and looked at him in the mirror. “There’s a lot I can’t believe about tonight,” he said softly, stepping just a little bit closer until he was pressed up against Ryan’s back, warm and solid. “But I think the most unbelievable part is the fact that I’m still wildly in love with you even after you called me freaking out that your set in Wyoming was haunted.”

Ryan laughed, hard, and shook his head. “You’re such an asshole, Shane. God. I can’t stand you.”

Shane just kissed his hair and stepped back. “C’mon, little guy. We can’t be late to my party.” He held out his hand, and Ryan took it with familiar ease.

“Oh, _ your _ party? I’m totally telling the guys that’s what you called it. Fame’s changed you, Madej.”

Shane’s soft laughter accompanied them as they headed out of their apartment and down to the lobby.

Island Records had sent a car for them - Ryan was completely unused to being taken care of like this. Even though things weren’t fancy - the Skeptics collectively insisted that they be treated like regular guys, no limos or fanfare beyond the party tonight - it still felt luxurious. It didn’t help that Shane opened Ryan’s door for him like a gentleman, which was just strange enough to throw Ryan.

Their hands clasped together in the space between them as they rode through Los Angeles was familiar and comforting, though.

For some reason, Ryan wasn’t expecting much of a crowd outside of the venue that Island Records had rented out - there was a red carpet, of all things, and a backdrop with the album art on it. There were even folks with cameras, and Shane squeezed Ryan’s hand firmly the moment he felt it start to tremble. 

He knew the Skeptics were a big deal now - he’d been to shows, he’d seen the interviews, he was online and stumbled across the fan groups - but it hadn’t really hit him until just now how big they truly were.

“I’m not gonna hold your hand out there,” Shane told him as the car pulled up to the curb, and Ryan looked over immediately, the panic obvious on his face. “Relax, Ry. They don’t know we’re dating.”

Ryan nodded a few times, trying to take deep, even breaths. Shane stayed with him, rubbing the back of his hand with his thumb.

“If we go out there holding hands, it’s gonna be some big fucking thing, and people are gonna bother you about it. We go out there, just two guys, I’ll say you’re my best friend, we do some stupid poses for the camera, and we choose a better situation for us coming out.” He brought Ryan’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “I want people to know about us. Trust me. But I want us to do it when you’re not shoved into the spotlight.”

There it was, that easy, thoughtless kindness that Shane always blew Ryan away with. The ring box felt a little weightier in his pocket, and Ryan smiled at him.

“Yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned forward to kiss Shane’s cheek gently; the windows on the car were tinted enough to keep them concealed, just enough for this. “C’mon, big guy, let’s go.”

Stepping out of the car was stepping into pure chaos. The paparazzi immediately started yelling for Shane, and Shane handled it with grace and ease. He smiled and put on the confident air he always had onstage, and Ryan trailed behind him by a step, attempting to slip into some sort of character like that.

He wasn’t able to until Shane looked back at him, smiling like the sun, warm eyes softening as he looked at him. “C’mon, Bergara,” he said, holding out his hand, and Ryan took it; he relaxed instantly, and Shane tugged him forward.

Shane dropped his hand after Ryan had caught up with him, but he stayed close, gently shepherding Ryan into the area where they’d have pictures actually taken. “Who’s that?” one photographer yelled at them, and Shane laughed a little, comfortable and at ease, despite how horrible this felt.

“Oh, this little guy? This is my best friend, Ryan Bergara! The Bergmiester!” His over-the-top voice made Ryan crack up and double over, and Shane looked down at him and chuckled.

That had been his goal all along, clearly. The tension melted from Ryan’s muscles, and when he stood back up, he felt okay. Shane put a hand on his shoulder and they both turned to the cameras, smiling, and Ryan knew the night would be okay. If they could survive this, they could survive anything else fame was going to throw at them.

They were forced to pose for what felt like a very lengthy ten minutes; the poses got increasingly ridiculous as the time wore on, and Ryan hoped the one where they were posing like Charlie’s Angels was the one that was chosen for the press release. He couldn’t wait to see it, and he and Shane were still giggling about it as they moved inside.

“Holy shit,” Shane said softly, taking it all in for the first time.

The little theatre Island Records had rented out had been totally transformed in the time between the last sound check and rehearsal and this night. The lights were low and blue, giving the room an ethereal glow. There were two levels, tables scattered around them with little candles in the center, and already people were milling around with drinks. Ryan reached down and took Shane’s hand, squeezing it a little. He knew his own emotions were a little too big for him to handle, and he couldn’t imagine what Shane was feeling.

Pride didn’t even start to cover what Ryan was experiencing.

Someone was playing the band’s preshow playlist over the sound system, and Vampire Weekend was currently pumping through the speakers; across the room, Ryan could see Annie swaying back and forth to it as she waited by the bar. Shane’s parents were chatting to Ryan’s by the stage, and Ryan’s heart swelled - hopefully they reacted as positively to what Ryan was planning to do tonight as Ryan’s family had. They knew he was going to propose, of course, just not when or how - and part of Ryan was starting to regret not filling them in on the whole plan.

Ryan didn’t even get a chance to get nervous, because Zack came up to Shane and pulled him into a big hug. “Dude, this is so fucking wild,” he said, disbelief coloring his tone. He used one of his arms to pull Ryan into the embrace as well, and Ryan just laughed. “The fucking paparazzi, Shane! We’ve really made it!”

“I know, this is… this is so crazy.” He sounded a little frazzled and overwhelmed; Ryan couldn’t blame him, and he reached out to take Shane’s hand in the midst of the hug, squeezing it gently. Shane huffed out an appreciative laugh. When they pulled back from Zack, he looked a little more grounded, and he didn’t let Ryan’s hand go.

Ryan wasn’t about to pull it away, cameras and press be damned.

“I’m like, gonna lose it. This is insane. Holy shit.” Zack laughed a little hysterically, pushing his hair back. “I gotta… okay. Breathe, Evans.”

“Please breathe. We have to play a set in like… an hour.” Shane clapped him on the shoulder. “Go get a drink, man. Relax. This is no different than any other show we’ve played.”

Zack closed his eyes and nodded a few times. “Y’know, I know that that’s true, but I think I just needed to hear it from an outside source. Thanks, man.”

Zack made his way over to the bar that Island had paid for - Annie and Adam were already there, dressed nicely and laughing together as the bartender mixed their drinks. Andrew, Steven, and Curly had grabbed a table by the railing of the small balcony area overlooking the floor, and they waved at Shane and Ryan before returning to their conversation. 

“Jen just texted me,” Shane said, pulling Ryan’s attention back to him. “She’s outside and ‘so stoked to see this extravagant bullshit.’” Ryan could hear the air quotes, and he laughed a bit. “I really fucking missed her.”

“Me too, man. But hey, next month. She’s gonna be hanging out with me so much, so. Sorry not sorry, dude.”

“You’re acting like that’s a problem,” Shane said with a chuckle, wrapping his arm around his shoulders. “You know I welcome it with open arms.”

Ryan was about to respond when he saw her out of the corner of his eye - Jen, looking snazzy in a blue suit, smiling as bright as she could as she headed their way, and Ryan not-so-gently brushed Shane aside so he could scoop her up into a big hug.

Jen’s laughter was loud and beautiful in his ear. “Jesus Christ! Hey, man!”

“Fuckin’ missed you, Jen.”

“I missed you too, oh my god, put me down, you idiot.”

Shane laughed behind them and Ryan gave Jen one last good squeeze before he set her back on the ground, only for Shane to do the exact same thing.

“I hate both of you.”

“No you don’t, ‘cause you’re here.”

She rolled her eyes at Shane and brushed her suit jacket out when she was standing again, shaking her head. “Congrats, Shane. I’m like, really fucking proud of you guys.”

“Thanks.” Shane’s blush would have been imperceptible to anyone but Ryan, but he noticed and elbowed him gently in the side. “I’m really glad you made it out. It wouldn’t feel right to have this without you.”

Jen’s cheeks turned pink and she looked down at the floor with a bashful grin. “Aw, man, don’t say that. I can’t cry _ yet, _ I only just showed up! I haven’t even had a drink!”

“Then go get one. Island’s picking up the tab so go wild but not too wild.”

She saluted, and Ryan laughed. “Go hang with Curly, I’ll be over there when the show starts.”

“Aye aye, captain.”

He was thinking about how easily he and Jen bantered, and how she was the second best thing to come out of that old job in Chicago, when Shane moved into his direct line of sight and took one of his hands. “Hey,” he said, voice quiet enough to not be overheard, but loud enough to make it over the sound of the music.

“Hey,” Ryan said, stepping a bit closer. The mood had shifted to incredibly intimate in the space of one word, and he watched Shane’s face as he thought for a few quiet, loaded moments.

“Do you remember,” Shane said softly, his hands slipping beneath his suit jacket to settle on his hips, “when we first started talking? And you told me that love wasn’t visible but it still existed so I should therefore open my mind and believe in ghosts because that same logic applied?”

Ryan wracked his brain, shuffling through the years of memories they had together. “Vaguely. I mean, it sounds like a solid point I was making. Why?”

“It _ wasn’t _ a solid point, and that’s why I’m bringing it up again.” Shane laughed and kissed Ryan’s forehead briefly. “You told me that and I didn’t want to call you out on being wrong again, so I let it go.”

If they hadn’t been standing so intimately, Ryan would’ve crossed his arms. Instead, he just huffed. “How am I _ wrong?” _

“It’s easy. I can see that my mom loves me, because when I was a kid she used to go out of the way to buy the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles band-aids for me. I can see that TJ loves me in the way he brings me tea without me asking on days he knows I’m a little stressed.” Shane’s thumb rubbed over Ryan’s hip a few times as he swallowed hard and looked into his eyes. “I can see that _ you _ love me in the way that you look at me. It’s in all the stupid little jokes you send me and the way you believe so strongly in my friends and our band. I can hear it in the way you tell me to shut up. Love is _ very, _ very visible. Especially around you. So I hate to prove you wrong, but…”

A very large part of Ryan wanted to cry. That was the sweetest thing Shane had ever said to him, excluding, of course, the dozens of songs he’d written that were now being streamed all over the world.

That was an overwhelming thought for another time, so Ryan shoved that and the emotions down and instead settled someplace comfortable. “You don’t hate proving me wrong, it’s your favorite fucking thing.”

Shane laughed, a sudden and bright sound, and Ryan laughed with him. Looking up at him like this, dressed well and hair done nicely, Ryan was hit over the head with just how glad he was that he’d stumbled into the Innertown Pub years ago and had given the Skeptics a chance.

Apparently, he ended up staring dopily up at Shane, and Shane’s brow furrowed. “What?”

“Just… I love you.” No matter how many times Ryan said that, it still felt big in a way he’d never get sick of.

Shane smiled, the soft smile he only ever really had when Ryan was around, and he leaned down to kiss him. As much as Ryan wanted it to last, Shane pulled away relatively quickly, and he bit his lip before he spoke. “I know.”

“Oh, you ass,” Ryan said, wheezing out a laugh as he pushed Shane away. “Don’t fucking Han Solo me after that shit, man! You were being so genuine!”

Shane laughed, throwing his head back as he did, and before he could respond, someone with a headset came over and tapped his arm. “Mr. Madej,” they said softly. “You’re onstage in five.”

“Shit.” Shane moved forward and kissed Ryan once more. “I’ll be back in thirty, promise. We’re only playing a few songs.”

“Break a leg, big guy.”

With Shane no longer occupying his attention, Ryan made his way through the crowd to grab a drink from the bar. He got himself the same beer he’d ordered his first night at the pub - it seemed sort of poetic, in a way. 

The bartender poured it in a glass, and the smell of it sent him right back to the summer he’d spent in Chicago; he’d planned on suffering through a shitty local band until he finished his beer. The juxtaposition wasn’t lost on him - the situation was almost the same, in a way. The Skeptics were getting ready to play, he was drinking his favorite beer, but instead of dread upon seeing the band take the stage, there was nothing but pride and happiness. 

He settled at a table with Jen and Kate and Curly, and raised his glass towards Shane as he adjusted the strap of his guitar and blinked at the overwhelming excitement from the crowd. Even a year and a half into constantly touring, he was still blown away that people loved them this much, and it was obvious on his face every time.

“Hi everyone, we’re the Skeptics,” Shane said with a grin that grew when the cheering came back louder. “But you already knew that. Uh, thank you so much for coming out tonight and helping us celebrate our debut album.”

Jen screamed from where she was standing, and it was so shrill Ryan had to laugh. Shane pointed to her, and she waved, and Ryan couldn’t help but feel so much love for the people he’d been lucky enough to surround himself with.

“We’re gonna play a few songs off that album for you. A little special thank you for being here and supporting us.”

They launched into Spark, an old favorite that had only gotten more polished since the move to Los Angeles, and Ryan looked around the room to watch people react to their music.

That was always his favorite part. Ryan loved watching people fall in love with the Skeptics the way he had back then - he loved to watch the slow smiles spread across their face and the stiffness leave their body as they fell into the rhythm. Every person reacted differently - his favorites so far were the kids in San Diego who had started crying during Forever Like That. He understood that. He loved that people were being moved by something Shane and TJ and Mark and Zack and Brent had made - and he loved that they were getting the opportunity to share it with the world.

“This is so fucking wild,” Jen said from where she was standing next to him, yelling just enough to be heard over the music. “Like, look at where we are, Ry. This is so weird.”

“I heard someone singing New Religion while I was walking to Chipotle three days ago. Trust me. I know it’s weird.” He smiled and took a sip of his beer, and Kate raised her own drink - a martini - in a motion that clearly expressed agreement.

“It’ll never stop being weird, hearing other people sing the songs Teej wrote about me.” She shrugged. “It’s great! I love it. But it’s strange, ‘cause that song was for me, y’know?”

“Yeah. I guess that’s just… part of the music being shared. It’s always been for us, but now new people get to hear it and it’ll mean somethin’ different to them.” 

The song ended and the applause was deafening in the enclosed space, and Shane looked a little surprised onstage. “Wow, thanks. Uh, this next one’s a big one, so sing along if you know the words.”

Ryan recognized the opening chords of New Religion and beamed; Andrew elbowed him and he rolled his eyes. “They’re playing your song, loverboy,” Andrew teased, and Ryan flipped him off. 

Even with the formality of the event, the crowd still got into the song, and Shane was able to step away from the mic while the crowd sang the chorus. Ryan pulled out his phone and recorded his view for a little, capturing a full verse and chorus - he wanted to save the moment forever. He wanted Shane to see things from the other side, at least for tonight, where it was a celebration of his band and all his hard work.

New Religion ended, and Ryan caught Shane’s eye as he clapped. He mouthed an “I love you” and Shane smiled and winked, and it felt good to know that even after all this time, their dynamic hadn’t shifted all that much.

Shane took a drink of water from a bottle at his feet while TJ fiddled with the tuning on his guitar. “We’re gonna do another old favorite and I don’t know what the label expected this show to go like, but I’m gonna encourage singing and dancing and general revelry. This is a party! Enjoy it!”

Zack played the gentle opening notes of his song, and a few of the people on the floor stepped away from their tables to dance as The Skeptics really got into Make You Mine.

Jen plucked Ryan’s drink out of his hand and Devon appeared at his side; next thing he knew, the two of them were dragging him into a dance, and he couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh. 

Ryan’s latent anxiety about being seen melted away quickly as Jen and Devon sang to him, and Jen did her best to try and twirl Ryan under her arm. He bent in half to make it work, which made Devon laugh, and he was tempted to risk an elbow to the ribs in an effort to pull them both close for a tight hug.

Over Devon’s shoulder, Ryan could see Adam and Annie swaying to the beat, Adam singing along in Annie’s ear. Kate was nodding her head to the beat as she watched the stage. Ryan had always felt an overwhelming amount of love whenever he heard this song, but tonight, in this room, surrounded by their people, that was magnified and intensified.

To say Ryan’s heart was full would’ve been a massive understatement. He felt like he could burst or float away with how much joy he was feeling. 

When the final notes of the song faded away, Ryan did pull Devon and Jen in for a big group hug, and he could feel them both laughing against his chest. “‘M so glad you guys made it. It wouldn’t have felt right without all of you here.”

Devon patted at his chest as they separated, and she smiled at him. “I wasn’t gonna miss seeing my local band hit it big. I’m just honored you guys wanted me here.”

“Alright, so,” Shane said as the applause died down, drawing Ryan’s attention back to the stage. “This is going to be our last one, because we’re here to celebrate with our friends, and in order to do that we can’t be playing music.” 

Kate cheered loudly, and TJ blew her a kiss before turning his back to the crowd. It was adorable, and the _ aww _ from the audience definitely didn’t help TJ feel any less embarrassed if Zack’s dumb grin was anything to go by.

“I saved this song for our debut album because it’s… the most important song I’ve ever written.” Shane swallowed hard and ran a hand through his shaggy hair, pushing it back from his forehead. “I wrote it about someone very close to me. He’s here tonight, but that’s all I’m going to say - he doesn’t really like too much attention on him.” Shane huffed a laugh into the mic, and Ryan’s cheeks felt hot as Curly and Andrew poked at him. He batted their hands away and kept his eyes on Shane, who looked uncomfortable but determined on the stage.

“He’s the reason we’re all here tonight - without him, we never would have recorded the demo album that went viral, which means we never would’ve gotten noticed by labels and offered this deal. That’s great, whatever. But that’s not why I’m confident that he’s easily the best thing to ever happen to me.”

“This is so romantic,” Annie whispered to Andrew, and Ryan had to bite his tongue so he wouldn’t shush her.

“We’re polar opposites in some ways. I won’t lie to you and say he’s my better half, because, frankly, he’s a stubborn asshole at the best of times.”

Ryan flipped him off, keeping his hand low enough that only the band would notice, and Shane just laughed again, leaning away from the mic.

“But we’re also completely compatible. If there was a venn diagram of our interests, that center section would be really fuckin’ chubby. He gets me like no one else does.” Shane stepped back and cleared his throat. “I saw him for the first time across a crowded bar while I was onstage singing. Tonight, I get to have a moment like that with him when he hears this song for the first time. This one goes out to you, little guy. You know who you are. And you know I mean every word.”

The song sounded big - the orchestrations behind the melody were more intense than any other Skeptics song before. It felt almost like it was surrounding Ryan, and he could see Annie and Adam looking on with awe from where they stood. TJ and Zack provided little _ ba ba ba-da-da _s in the background over the wall of sound. It was… incredible.

Ryan could feel the tears coming before Shane even started singing.

_ “Everybody needs someone to be there,” _ he sang, gentle and soft as he closed his eyes to focus on the music. _ “Everybody needs to be alone. If you should ever take the time to wander, let me be the star to guide you home.” _

Ryan swallowed hard, and Jen put her hand on his forearm as Shane started in on the chorus.

_ “And all of the dreams you have, I have them too, and all of the songs I sing, I wrote for you.” _ As he sang that line, he opened his eyes and made eye contact with Ryan, and he smiled when he saw the effect he was having on him.

That was it; Ryan felt the first few tears roll down his cheeks, and Shane just kept singing, the smile on his face the one he only ever got around Ryan. No one else in the room would know that, but Ryan did, and it felt huge.

One of his hands drifted over his side, feeling for the little box as he wiped at his face with his other.

The rest of the crowd and the room faded away - it felt like Ryan and Shane were the only ones in the room, and Ryan didn’t break eye contact as Shane kept singing. “_ I’ll never give you up, I’ll never give you up, my oh my. _”

The song slowed down and came to a soft end, and Ryan didn’t even cheer or clap; he stood there, trying to get his emotions in check while the rest of the crowd exploded into life around them, tearing down the house with their raucous applause. “Thank you guys so much, we love you,” Shane said, and then the band were leaving their instruments onstage and heading back to join the rest of the crowd.

After Shane left the stage, Ryan rubbed at his face and took a few deep breaths. He couldn’t look like a disaster now, not when the one thing he had been planning for months was about to happen.

He turned to Jen and Annie and huffed out another quick breath. “Do I look like a disaster?”

Annie bit her lip for a second in thought while Jen reached up to ruffle his hair a little. “Nope,” she said, popping the P on it. “Your eyes are a little puffy, but otherwise you look good.”

Jen looked at the table and grabbed a glass of ice, the drink long gone, and held it up. “Press that to your eyes for a second if you’re worried about ‘em, Ry. But I think you’ll be good.”

He pulled out his phone and opened the front-facing camera and took in his appearance; the puffiness wasn’t too pronounced, so he shook his head. “I think you’re right. I’m good.”

“You are,” Shane said from behind him, and Ryan jumped out of his skin. Shane wheezed and shook his head. “God, it’s still so easy!”

“Fuck you, man.”

“You don’t mean that.”

Shane wrapped one of his arms around Ryan’s waist and settled in to say hello to the group, and he fell into the idle chatter he’d gotten so good at since signing with a label. Interviews and meetings had hammered in habits that Shane would slip into without meaning to; Devon teased him for his formal “thank you for coming,” and Ryan beamed.

The fact that not much had changed since Chicago - the friend group had expanded, of course, and the band had found incredible, unimaginable success, but the core feeling was still there with them, the gentle teasing and banter - was amazing to Ryan. He had always thought that distance and fame and time would change things; that’s what he’d always heard, at least, from old friends and family alike, long before he’d met the Skeptics and Jen and Devon and Steven and Curly and Andrew in Chicago.

He was so, so glad he’d lucked out and found the most genuine group of people on the planet.

That feeling of overwhelming joy hit him in the chest again, and he’d realized he’d gotten wrapped up in his own thoughts while the world went on around him.

Ryan wrapped his hand around the ring box in the interior pocket of his suit jacket, fingers brushing over the velvet as he watched Shane laugh at something happening across the room. God, he loved that man so much. Every part of his very being sang when he was with Shane, and he knew that he never wanted to lose that ever again.

As Shane turned back to look at him, eyes bright and full of warmth and happiness and love, Ryan stepped back and out of Shane’s arms. Shane’s brow furrowed, and Ryan gripped the box in his hand a little tighter. 

“Hey,” he said gently, smiling up at Shane for a split second before dropping down to one knee and pulling the box out. Someone close to where they were standing gasped, but Ryan’s eyes were fixed on Shane’s face, so he didn’t see who. He just watched the realization of what was happening dawn in Shane’s expression, and then he cleared his throat.

“So,” he said, voice shaking just a little as he opened the box and revealed the understated black band he’d picked out. “I have a question for you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's so many people i have to thank: [jess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sequence_fairy/pseuds/sequence_fairy) was one of the first people to welcome me into this fandom and encourage me to write this story. the discords (both the rarebuzzships and shyan writers one) have been such great sources of inspiration and cheerleading even when i could barely write. every single person who commented brought immense joy to my face - i looked forward to hearing what all of you thought each time i posted a chapter! i hope i brought you even a slice of the happiness you brought me.
> 
> the biggest thanks has to go to one person, though: without yesi, this may have never gotten finished or had seen the light of day. she allowed me to throw ideas at her and helped me fix the ones i decided on. she is the only reason this is here, in the form that it is, and i'm so lucky to consider her a friend and a collaborator in this fandom. i love her, and her writing, and i loved watching her react to things in real time.
> 
> thank you, so much, to all of you. this has been so rewarding and so fun.
> 
> one last thing: i made a [masterpost](https://mediumboybergara.tumblr.com/post/614786391739596800/all-the-songs-i-sing-masterpost) of various Stuff i made while writing this story, including the skeptics' full discography. links are all in there - there are too many to put individually in this author's note.
> 
> i'll come back to this universe when i have the stamina to write, but until then, see you later. <3


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